


An Honest Mistake

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bondage, Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Second War with Voldemort, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-08
Updated: 2010-09-11
Packaged: 2018-10-27 15:13:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10811538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Amortentia: The most powerful love potion in the world. And, as Draco Malfoy soon finds out, also the most dangerous; the kind that keeps you coming back for more, even after you think it's all over. Loads of Dramione smut. You've been warned!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

An Honest Mistake

 It was a beautiful evening at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Exams were fast-approaching for its many students, but with the weather the way it was, they couldn’t help but feel hopeful for the summer that was surely just around the corner.

Three such students were in the Great Hall that night, eating dinner. Hermione Granger, her best friend Harry Potter, and her on-again-off-again-it’s-fucked-up-and-I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it love interest Ron Weasley were all enjoying roast potatoes and smoked pork.

Through a full mouth, Ron asked, “Hermione, you don’t think that you can help me with my Potions essay, do you? Slughorn might not mark as hard as Snape but I’ll be damned if I can figure this one out.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “You’re on your own for this one. I’ve got Potions of my own to do.”

Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. “What? I thought you finished that essay weeks ago.”

“I  _did,_ Harry. If you must know… Professor Slughorn is allowing me to make-up the credit I lost to… that  _book of yours_ today.”

 Harry sighed. He hadn’t stopped hearing about the goddamned book all year, why couldn’t she just give it up?

 Hermione pulled a small vial of a translucent liquid out of her bag. Harry and Ron knew the potion well, as they had just been making it that day.

 “You brewed more Amortentia already?” Ron asked incredulously. Harry nudged him, and he remembered who he was talking to.

Hermione shrugged it off. “Professor Slughorn said that if I could remake the potion better than the first time, I’d receive full credit. Since not all of us have evil potions books to help them cheat their way through the class, I decided to take advantage of the opportunity,” she said with a huff.

Harry smiled. “Well, you could have just asked. The Prince has a great recipe for Amortentia that seems to work a lot better than yours.”

 “I don’t CARE about The Prince or his recipes! I’ll follow the book, thank you very much, and for your information, this is brewed  _perfectly_ , I checked.”

She stood up and turned to leave. “I’m going to drop this off at Slughorn’s office. I’ll meet you back in the Common Room.”

Harry and Ron shrugged. They might have followed her if she was in a better mood, but they’d much rather keep their distance when she wasn’t. They waved and set off in the opposite direction, toward the Gryffindor Common Room.

 

Hermione was striding past the Slytherin table, potion held close to her chest, not looking at any of them, when suddenly she ran right into Blaise Zabini, who was quite a bit taller than her. Of course he had stepped out in front of her, but she couldn’t imagine why.

 “What the  _hell_ , Granger! I’m gonna have to wash these now!” Blaise whined, and wiped some invisible dirt from his robes.

 Hermione ground her teeth, and prepared to push past him, but she had barely moved before Blaise had snatched the vial out of her hands and, knocking her to the ground, turned to have a whiff.

 “Oooh, what are we brewing here Ms. Granger? A love potion to snare some pathetic blood traitor? My, my, how the mighty have fallen. Well, it won’t work on me, Mudblood!”

 Hermione just groaned. She had fallen rather hard to the stone floor, and so as she regained her senses, she failed to notice that a drop of the potion went into Draco Malfoy’s pumpkin juice. Staring into space, his food untouched, it seemed that Draco had other things on his mind as well.

 Hermione stood up and pulled out her wand. “Now is  _not_  the time for games, Zabini. Give me the potion!”

 Much to her surprise, he just handed it to her. She looked at him suspiciously, but carried on her way. She vaguely heard Blaise sitting down next to Malfoy and encouraging him to drink his pumpkin juice. She strode out of the Great Hall and down the corridor. The halls were mostly empty; students were either back in the common rooms, eating dinner, or out enjoying the start of what looked to be a fine Friday evening.

 Several minutes passed as she walked down the halls, lost in thought. She was still stewing about how much of a jerk Blaise Zabini was when she knocked on the door to the main potions classroom. Receiving no response, she found the door unlocked and entered.

 The classroom was deserted. Several potions, from previous lessons, Hermione assumed, sat brewing on the desks. Only dim candlelight stopped the dungeon room from being utterly dark.

 “Professor Slughorn?” she called out. No reply. She stepped forward to the door to Slughorn’s office, located at the back of the class. She knocked timidly. She was unsure why she seemed so unsettled to find the classroom deserted, after all, most of the staff were currently taking dinner, but she didn’t see him at the staff table while she was in the Great Hall.

 Her knocking had gone unanswered so she spoke through the door. “Sir, it’s Hermione Granger. I brought the potion you asked me to make up.”

 She was contemplating just leaving the vial there with a note when she noticed a shadow appear by the entrance to the classroom. She whirled around to find Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway.

 They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Hermione felt severely suspicious, he was just…  _watching her_ , and not in a flattering sort of way, though she never expected that from him. There was a glint in his eye that hinted at something that made Hermione deeply uncomfortable. Without any taunts in his voice, or a delighted smirk on his lips, or cruel laughter in his eyes, Malfoy looked, well, he looked  _different_ , Hermione thought. She would never admit to herself that he looked  _good,_  but she’d never seen him in this light before. Frankly she figured it was because she had never had a good chance to look at him without being embarrassed somehow.

 But now, something was different. He just watched her, and she him, and after a long while, she said “What do you want, Malfoy? Professor Slughorn’s not here.”

 He seemed entirely nonplussed by this news as he stepped forward, toward her.  Her voice rising an octave higher than its usual.“What do you want, Malfoy?” 

 But still, he strode forward, the same strange glint in his eyes. It wasn’t something she’d seen before. He didn’t  _look_  dangerous, it wasn’t a mean look, in fact his face seemed entirely expressionless, but it made her knees quiver slightly nonetheless.

 He kept advancing until he was only a foot away from her. And then in a slow, silken voice he murmured, “I want  _you_ , Granger.”

 Hermione gasped, half in embarrassment, half in shock. Clearly he was toying with her. If Ron Weasley couldn’t even appreciate her, she didn’t know how on  _EARTH_  Draco Malfoy could. No, one doesn’t suddenly jump ships like that. He was playing with her for some reason, and she would find out why.

 She pulled out her wand and pointed it at him. He hesitated. “What do you want, Malfoy?” She asked again, her voice cold and insistent. She tried to keep an edge of pleading from it, unsuccessfully. 

 “You know, you’re making this unnecessarily difficult,” he said softly. “All I want is you. Now. On this very table, even.” He gestured to the grouping of desks beside him.

 She looked into his eyes again. They seemed particularly bright, a swirling silver instead of the usual dull, steely grey. She tried reading them, to see if there was anything in them that would give his intentions away. And upon second glance, she did notice something in his eyes.

 The glint, she had seen it before. She saw it in Lavender Brown’s eyes every time she looked at Ron. It was lust. And he was looking at nothing but her. She racked her brains for why,  _why_  this could be.

 And it dawned on her. With slow horror, she raised the vial to eye level, and sure enough, a miniscule amount of the potion was missing.  _That son of a bitch._  Hermione was rarely prone to cursing, but with Draco Malfoy in front of her, under the effects of a love potion, she felt it would be appropriate. Momentarily, she considered another possibility. Here she was, alone in a classroom with Draco Malfoy, who was (and why lie to myself anymore, she thought) one gorgeous hunk of meat. And also, infatuated with her to the point of bursting thanks to the most powerful love potion in existence.

 Next, her mind flitted to Ron. She toyed with the idea that this would be dangerously close to her becoming unfaithful to Ron, but really with the things Lavender had probably done to him, she wasn’t too concerned. She rolled her eyes and ground her teeth. Possibly seeing the look on her face, Draco stopped his advances. While she considered the ramifications of having a very horny Malfoy alone, he had closed the gap between them, without her even realizing it.

 She automatically took a step back and scurried across the class to look for a potions’ textbook. She needed to find an antidote. She’d rather not have to explain to Madam Pomfrey that Draco Malfoy was under the effects of a love potion. She’d die of embarrassment first.

 Searching the cupboard, she was utterly unaware that Draco had come up behind her until she could feel his hot breath on her neck, and his hands roaming across her waist. It made her hair stand up, and she shuddered involuntarily.

 She spun around and attempted to force him away, but instead his lips crashed to hers. He was ferocious; his desperate need clear from the passion of his kiss. It was then that Hermione decided not to bother looking for an antidote.  _Why not?_ She pushed thoughts of Ron from her mind, relaxing into the feeling of his lips against hers.

 Sensing her change in stance, Draco’s passion doubled. His tongue had slowly worked its way around her lips, and Hermione found herself responding in altogether  _un-Hermioneish_ ways.  _Why the hell not?_  He’d never tell a soul about this anyway. She smirked into his kiss and returned it as best as she knew how.

 Draco was close enough that she could feel the bulge in his trousers. Fortunately there were no robes between them, the summer weather having forced all of the students to dress as lightly as possible.

 Despite the tension in his pants, Draco didn’t seem quite ready to let loose just yet, and this suited Hermione just fine. She moaned very softly and stood, bracing herself against the cabinet behind her, as Draco kissed and sucked ever so slightly at her neck. He was kissing her so quickly, and so lightly, but each time his lips met her skin, it was like fire, so intensely hot it was cold, and another part of her body ached in response. She quickly turned to the door and cast a locking spell as well as a silencing spell. This was _not_ something she wanted to be interrupted in.

 She attempted to unbutton the blouse she was wearing, fumbling with the buttons, her hands shaking from nerves. She gave up as Draco’s steady hands, guided by Amortentia, easily undid the buttons down her front. Gradually he trailed the kisses lower and lower, down the shallow indentation of her collarbone, and across the swell of her breasts, pert and well formed. Her back was practically arching toward him, and it seemed that at long last, she too was in desperate need.

 Draco paused in his kissing to look up at her. She looked down to see why he had stopped, and noticed the simple black bra that had momentarily halted Draco’s advances.

 “Surely you can manage that much, Granger.” A ghost of a smirk passing over his face. 

_Even under the effects of the most powerful love potion in the world he can still be an ass,_  she thought with a sigh. Her hands still shaking, she gave him a pleading look.

 “Very well.” He did not particularly seem to mind the opportunity to reach behind her back and unclasp the bra. Hermione let it fall to the floor, along with her shirt. Even before it had reached the ground he was upon her. She gasped in pleasure as his tongue found one of her nipples, while his fingers lightly danced around the other. Draco pushed her gently back, so that she was leaning over one of the desks, and soon she was lying flat on top, her legs dangling over the edge. She was seeing stars; the amount of pressure Draco was applying as his tongue swirled round was causing her to shiver.

 He switched to the other nipple, and she moaned again, low and steady, as he sucked gently on it, flicking the other with his index finger. By now, her need had become paramount, and she was about to order Draco to continue when he stopped and began trailing kisses down her abdomen. Apparently he couldn’t go on teasing her forever. This made Hermione feel at least a little more comfortable, the thought that Draco couldn’t completely control her. Her skirt was worn low to protect her modesty, the curves of her hips clearly visible. He traced along the lines with his fingers, cold and dexterous. By this point he didn’t even bother asking her to dignify herself enough to remove the skirt on her own. He yanked it free and down her legs, only a pair of black panties between Draco Malfoy and what he wanted.

 Hermione, despite being in a sexual haze, still noted blissfully that her choice in underwear that morning had at least saved her  _some_  embarrassment, as the dark colouring had nicely hidden the large wet spot that had developed. She knew that Draco had spotted it as he stuck his thumbs in her waistband and smirked, but he pulled them down without comment.

 Hermione braced herself. She was unsure of just how much of this she could take. Before she knew it, Draco had slipped a finger inside of her, and as he gently bent it, slowly forcing it in and out, a moan of ecstasy escaped her lips. She waited, waited, for what she was sure was coming.

 But it never did. She looked up to see Draco standing back, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he unzipped his trousers. They quickly hit the floor, his boxers soon following. And with dawning horror, Hermione realized that he was only semi-hard.

  _Wow. Alright then. Maybe he does have complete control over me,_  she mused as she sat up, got her legs, and then dropped to her knees.

 “You’re a quick learner,” he grinned at her as she approached his large member. She attempted her best confident smile and replied, “What makes you think I haven’t done this before?”

 He laughed instead of replying, and Hermione decided that trying to banter with him would get her nowhere. Going on instinct mostly, Hermione took Draco’s cock in her hands and slowly began to slide it up and down. When he leaned back slightly, and his breathing quickened, she grew more confident, using one hand to traverse the length of his shaft until he grew fully hard.

 She stepped back to admire her handiwork. Hermione had admittedly not seen much of the male anatomy in her day, but from all that she had gleaned, and from her impressions alone, she was impressed. She did not even allow herself to think of what the fallout of all this would be. She  _needed_  that dick in front of her, and as it stood, she would do whatever she needed to get it.

 Shimmying forward slightly, still on her knees, she looked up at Draco. He seemed amused and expectant, as though he could guess what was coming but never saw it happening. She dropped his gaze and slowly lowered her lips to the tip of his cock. There was an instant response as it twitched between her lips, and she assumed that she must be doing something right as she lowered herself further over him, testing the feel of it in her mouth. She pulled up slightly, and Draco inhaled sharply, and then again lowered her lips down his shaft. She figured this was about the extent of it (no need to get fancy and have thing ends early, she thought), and picked up the pace. She would focus just on the head for a time, and then work her way back down the shaft again, Draco groaning all the while. This went on for a time, and Hermione concluded that she didn’t abhor the experience, at least not to the extent that she thought she would. Plus having Draco under her thumb like this was a sort of sadistic pleasure all in itself.

 Suddenly, his hand stroked her face, and by the look in his eyes, she knew that it was time. She could see the hunger there, the desperate need. He lifted her back onto the desk and she lay flat, preparing for whatever pain, pleasure, or world-ending catastrophe could follow. She was about to have sex with Draco Malfoy, after all, the boy who had spent the last six years of his life taunting her at every opportunity.

 Her last thoughts were  _well, this isn’t so bad, really_ , before her world exploded. Hermione was in sensory overload. The pain, overwhelming at first, quickly died, to be replaced by immense pleasure, as Draco slowly began working his way in and out, trying to find a rhythm. This was an epiphany. Hermione had never experienced anything like it in her life, like a veil had been lifted from her eyes. There was a whole realm beyond her imagining, and it was  _beautiful._

 Draco seemed to have experienced a similar vision, and his pace increased. He groaned as he stretched her legs apart to accommodate more of him, with one hand bracing himself on the desk, and another resting on her abdomen, the thumb periodically pushing into her clit. Her eyes were closed, her face scrunched up, beads of sweat rolling down her forehead. It wasn’t particularly hot in the classroom, but the pleasure made it feel like her body was a million degrees, like she could burst into flames at any minute.

 Hermione gasped in outrage as she felt Draco’s thumb leave her clit. She was about to sit up as she felt Draco’s now warm hands lifting her legs. She was about to ask him what the point was when she yelled out in surprise. Draco had been lifting her legs so that he could fit more of his length within her. He was now completely inside her, she could feel his smooth skin against hers, and felt the gentle slap as he began rhythmically pounding into her with his full length.

 This was twice as good as before. Draco would pull all the way out, to the point where the tip was only barely inside of her. She would moan, beg for him, and then he would slam back in, his cock fully re-entering in one fluid motion. It was the height of pleasure, and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to hang on much longer.

 It progressed for several more minutes, heightening, building, until, quite suddenly, Draco pulled out and, with an animalistic cry, let go on top of Hermione. Her breasts and abdomen were thoroughly coated. She was on the brink of her release and she screamed for him, not caring who heard, what happened, anything, and he frantically ground the head of his cock into her clitoris.

He watched as her lips tightened, as the shudders wracked her body, her back arching up and down in rapid succession. He slowly pulled out the last of his cum until all that he had to offer was on Hermione’s chest. She lay flat on the desk once more, breathing heavily.

 Draco leaned back against the cabinet, attempting to catch his breath as well. He grinned weakly and returned to his clothes. Hermione managed to sit up enough to see the colossal mess that Draco had left on her body. It looked impressive. It was  _everywhere_. She didn’t know just why Malfoy had pulled out… But thank god he had. She didn’t even want to  _think_  about what could have happened if he didn’t.

 She searched for her wand, but realized that it was on the cabinet across the way. She must’ve put it there earlier, but her memory was a blur. She dared not move. Malfoy seemed to notice her predicament and came over and, with a flick of his wand, cleaned up for her.

 She returned to her clothes as Draco began to watch her longingly again, already redressed. She knew that she would have to sort out an antidote before Slughorn got back. Again, as she searched for a textbook Draco had managed to close the distance between them impossibly fast and was, once more, sucking lightly on her neck.

 She heard a light cough and looked up so fast that she nearly hit her head on the cabinet. Professor Slughorn was standing in the door.

 “Professor Slughorn! Oh… Er… Well, I can explain!”

 Professor Slughorn took a long, measured look between Hermione and Draco. A smile twitched to his lips, beneath his bushy mustache. “No need, m’dear. I can see perfectly well what’s happened here. I’ll correct my records to give you full marks for today’s work.”

 “But Professor-”

 “Amortentia, expertly brewed. You can see it in his eyes, if you look closely. You’d best be going, we wouldn’t want him doing anything…  _untoward_  to you while under its effects. Although I daresay by the look on your face while he was attached to your neck I somehow wonder whether you would mind or not.”

 Hermione blushed a fierce crimson as she grabbed her bag and exited the classroom as quickly as possible. The last thing she heard before rushing down the hall was Slughorn, in an appraising voice, saying “Draco my boy, I think you’ve found a place at my next gathering!”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Seconds

Pansy Parkinson squealed rather loudly in the Slytherin Common Room. Draco Malfoy was currently engaged in the delicate art of fucking her brains out. She squealed again beneath him, a high shrill sound that grated against his ears. He looked up into her admittedly brutish face and, without breaking stride, hissed, "Can you stop that? You're going to make me go deaf with all of that nonsense."

"But I waaaaaaaant you, Draco," she moaned, her voice high and broken from the intense pleasure she was currently feeling. They had flipped over so that she was bouncing on him with wild abandon, not even paying attention to what she was doing.  _She always was a fucking whore_ , Draco thought, pulling out.

"Fuck me, Draco! Oh Merlin, PUT THAT THING BACK IN MY CUNT YOU DUMB BLOND!"

He complied, and entered her roughly, deciding that he would make her pay for that comment. But it didn't seem to be working. The more forceful he got with her, the more turned on she seemed to get.  _Fuck._

He looked up at her pug face again, and then pushed her off of him, back onto the couch. She stuck a finger in her mouth and crossed her legs, apparently trying to look a tease, and failing wildly. "Oooh, play rough with me, Draco!"

"Come get it," she mewled when he didn't reply, and spread her legs open, waiting for him to get up from the couch and continue shagging her. The smooth, pale skin was glistening in the dim light, but Draco had no desire to continue.

He got up from the couch, and turned to his clothes. He began getting dressed, and Pansy let out an undignified gasp. She began to pout, "Draco honey, what's wrong?"

When he remained silent, she continued quizzing him. "Is it because I'm making too much noise? You could always gag me," she hinted seductively. He ignored the idea, and continued getting dressed.

"Am I too tight for you or something then?" She paused when he snorted.

"Quite the opposite," he said, and stood up to walk out of the Common Room. Pansy's face turned to hurt and bitter anger when she realized what his words entailed.

"Where are you going?" she yelled at him, her voice shot through with anger.

He didn't reply, and instead walked straight out of the Common Room.

"Well FUCK YOU, DRACO!" she screamed, as Draco walked away. Dimly he could hear the sounds of her pleasuring herself in the distance, finishing the job he had become so disenchanted with. 

Draco crept down the dungeon corridors. This was his specialty, exploring the school at night. Unlike Potter, he didn't have an invisibility cloak, and so he had to use actual skill to elude detection. By this point he had grown quite good at it. He wasn't wandering aimlessly, as he had wanted Pansy to think. No, he was headed to the library, because he had a hunch.

He just hoped he was right.

* * *

Hermione Granger couldn't sleep. She had been fighting with Ron again that day, his temper worse than usual thanks to what little inkling he had of yesterday's events. Hermione didn't feel particularly guilty about them, but Ron, ever the hypocrite, had still managed to make her feel bad, even though she knew full well that Lavender was  _all_ over him all the time. To make matters worse, the previous night was on repeat in her mind, looping endlessly as Draco Malfoy fucked her over and over and over again. She hated to admit to herself, but she was  _turned on_. She had tried to take care of it herself to get back to sleep, but that just wasn't happening, not with a dorm full of girls around, and Silencing Charms only doing so much, she decided to do what she always did when she couldn't get something out of her mind: Homework.

Hermione buried herself in Arithmancy homework, but soon found herself in need of additional books. This was the problem with doing homework in the middle of the night…

As she deliberated over what to do, she found her thoughts turning back to the previous night. All of the new things she'd experienced, not least of which the way Draco treated her.  _That_  certainly was a new experience. Not quite an equal, but about as close to it as anyone gets when Draco Malfoy is shagging them, anyway.

Of course she hadn't said a word of it to Harry or Ron when she got back. No, they had clearly noticed her ruffled collar, disheveled hair, and the marks on her neck, but they said nothing. Harry acted like he noticed no change, but she saw the amusement and curiosity in his eyes.  _If only he knew who it was_ , she had mused. Ron on the other hand… Well, he was Ron. His ears went red and he sputtered incoherently, but it would be the very death of him to ask, so he didn't.

She herself was intent on ignoring it to the best of her abilities. The problem was that those abilities didn't seem to be good enough. Her experiences with Draco were among her first, and it can be said that he did leave an  _impression._   _One hell of an impression_ , she thought to herself, hopelessly trying to dispel the imagery from her mind.

She shook her head, as though trying to physically force the thoughts out of her mind. She pulled the covers back and stepped out of her four-poster. Wearing only a small pair of red and white panties that hugged tightly to her body, and a t-shirt, she ducked down and went through her clothes, looking for something,  _anything_  to wear. She did not want to think about clothing (or the absence of it) with Draco Malfoy on her brain. She found an old skirt that she didn't wear anymore and threw it on.

She grabbed her textbooks and tossed them back in her bag and made her way out of the Common Room. She briefly considered going to the boy's dormitory to get Harry's invisibility cloak, but she had no idea what she would tell him if he caught her. And she wasn't about to stop thinking long enough to figure that out, or her mind would wander back to  _him_ , so she just hurriedly stepped through the portrait hole, waking the Fat Lady with the lateness of the hour.

She took the stairs down to the fourth floor and counted herself fortunate not to run into any of the various denizens of the school. She could hear Peeves bouncing around in one of the classrooms,  _or perhaps it was just someone having very, very rough sex_. She dwelled on that possibility for a moment before forcing herself to think of other things.

She went through the passageway to the library. It was quite dark, but she was prepared for this. She sat down at one of the tables, set up her notes, and then pulled out one of her patented jars of blue fire. She set it on the desk, and then went to work finding the books she would need.

Finding them,  she returned to the table. She went straight to work, forcing herself to focus on nothing but the task at hand, which was completing all of her homework for the week ahead. She did this for a while, losing track of time, before going to look for a book on Numerology to help her with one of her assignments.

As she was pulling it down from the shelf, she heard a voice behind her: "Up late, are we, Granger?"

She knew that voice. It was Draco Malfoy, of course. Of all the people to find their way into the library at Merlin knows  _what_  hour in the morning, it had to be him.

She was so surprised that she dropped her book. It fell to the stone floor, making quite the racket. The noise from the classroom down the hall stopped abruptly. Hermione braced for the worst. She expected Peeves to burst into the library at any moment, and alert the teachers to her rule-breaking behaviour. She snatched the book up from the floor and almost hid behind it.

After a long moment, she peered out from behind it to see Draco smirking at her. Shortly after, the noise resumed.

"What in Merlin's name are you  _smirking about_?" she hissed. "I could have been caught!"

"You could have been caught." He repeated back to her slowly, his smirk never fading.

"Yes!"

"So just you would be caught? They'd ignore me standing here and go straight for you?"

"They're probably so used to seeing you where you don’t belong, they wouldn't even care," she scoffed.

Draco growled. "One, not that it  _matters,_  but I haven't been caught out of bed since first year. Two, we wouldn't be caught in the first place."

Hermione looked at him, confused, as his smirk grew wider.

"That wasn't Peeves in that classroom. By the look of things, Davies was having his way with Chang."

Hermione felt her face rapidly reddening and she realized that she had been right in her earlier assessment.

She almost felt embarrassed just for him. "You were watching them? You really  _are_  a Slytherin."

"I heard them going at it," Draco shrugged. "Thought I would have a look. Sure enough, Davies was knocking over desks with that crazy wench."

Hermione just sighed. She grabbed the book and returned to her table, doing her best to ignore him. She saw out of the corner of her eye that he did not follow.

"What are you doing here?" she tried to sound supremely unconcerned. She didn't think her façade worked that well, because she could almost hear the smirk in his voice now.

"Just out for a late night stroll. What's  _your_  excuse, Granger?"

"That's none of your business, Malfoy." She was growing red, thinking that  _he_  was really the reason that she was here.

"Ooooh, 'Malfoy' now is it," he gestured with his hands, mocking her. "That's not what you were calling me last night."

_Oh shit, did I really call him 'Draco' during the sex?_ She thought. She was trying to remember whether she did or not and all the while growing gradually more red as his grin widened.

"Well, that was last night," she finished tersely.

"And?"

"Things are different now."  _Aren't they?_  She added in her thoughts, but she'd dare not speak it aloud. She would not get her hopes up. This was Draco bloody Malfoy.

Draco said nothing. He just looked at her. After a moment of silence, she sighed. "Why are you here, Malfoy?"

"Because I want something from you."

This surprised Hermione. There were many things she expected him to do: Yell at her, curse her, swear that last night would never happen again. She fully expected him to call her a filthy Mudblood, swear that she would pay for the rest of her life, and then exit the library, plotting revenge.

Instead, he did none of these things. He wanted something.

"Wh-what do you want?" she asked nervously.  _Hermione Granger DO NOT let this boy push you around._

"A kiss."

"What? Why? And why should I kiss you?" Of course Hermione would be delighted to feel his warm lips against hers, but she didn't see his angle, and there was no way that she would give into him that easily. She would only end up looking the fool in the end.

"Kiss me. Because I want you to. Because I know you want it and even if you delude yourself into thinking that you don't, I can easily blackmail you into giving it to me anyway. So it's your choice: You can do this the dignified way and just fucking kiss me, or I can anonymously tip off Peeves that you've been in the library all night. Your choice, Granger."

She considered this a moment. Of course she was going to kiss him, but there was no way she'd let him have it that easy. Finally, she sat up out of the chair. Standing there, she closed her eyes, expecting Draco's lips to meet hers and be done with it.

Instead, she felt her skirt being unzipped. She gasped in shocked protest and tried to pull his hands away from the zipper.

_"_ _What in Merlin's name are you doing!"_ she screeched.  _A kiss? How was this a kiss?_

Draco looked up smugly at her. "I asked for a kiss. You didn't specify  _where_  I got to kiss you."

Any normal girl, any  _sane_  girl, would have explained that  _that_  most certainly did  _not_  constitute a kiss, that doing  _that_  was taking things quite a bit farther. But Hermione was not feeling particularly sane this evening. She wanted it bad, and he knew it, and it was so easy just to stay silent and let him have his way.

While she contemplated what to say or do, he interpreted her silence as a green light, and he pulled her skirt down and off as she stepped out of it, more curious than anything, she told herself. He tossed it off in the distance, which caused her to roll her eyes at him.

_Fucking thanks, Draco. I guess we know who will be making the quick escape tonight, and I'll give you a hint: It sure won’t be me._

He picked her up, and she couldn't help but love the cold feeling of his hands against her ass, only the thin cotton of the panties between them. He set her on the table, and without any resistance, pulled her legs apart.

"Nice arse, Granger." He murmured. She blushed and said nothing. She was tired of bantering with Draco, and curious to see where this would lead. 

She lay back on the table, ready. Waiting.

"Ah, ah, ah." The smirk was in his voice.  _Fuck you, Draco Malfoy._

"I think that shirt needs to disappear first," he said, doing his best impression of mock innocence.

She sighed and lifted the shirt over her head. She was too pissed off and horny to really care that he was still fully dressed and she nearly naked. 

He examined the sight that was her breasts. They were firm and round, they stood quite at attention, and she awaited his touch. But of course it didn't come. She covered her growl of frustration with a hoarse cough.

She felt his thumbs hook around the inside of the waistband of her panties. She closed her legs once more and Draco pulled them off in one fluid motion. Sure enough, there they were, looking outrageously small in his large hands, and she felt the cool air between her legs.  _That_  got her going. Nothing quite got Hermione turned on like knowing that she was sitting here, naked, in front of Draco Malfoy, ready to be taken to _very_ new places by the biggest asshole she knew. But still, it didn't come. She was growing impatient now, this teasing act getting on her nerves.

"Are you going to do this or not?"

He smiled. "Patience, Granger. You'll get all you want and a whole lot more soon enough."

_What was that supposed to mean?_  She didn't want to think about it. Instead of getting on his knees or at least bending down to better access the area between her legs, Draco pulled out his wand. Hermione felt her heart nearly stop in her chest.

" _What_  are you doing, Draco?" panic had crept into her voice.

His grin grew positively devilish. "Ah, so it's 'Draco' again, is it? Best make up your mind,  _Hermione."_

That caught her off guard. She didn't think she'd ever heard Draco Malfoy refer to her by her first name before.

He muttered an incantation, and the end of his wand lit up, an intense orange glow, only as large as the tip of the wand, appeared. She watched in abject horror as the recalcitrant Malfoy lowered the wand to her skin, pushing it into her shoulder with surprising force.

She wanted to scream, but the words caught in her throat. She choked, and choked, and then remembered how to breathe again, and did so with a large, howling gasp. She didn't realize how positively embarrassing the noises she was making were until she could hear Draco's quiet laughter.

She didn't care. The sensation felt wonderful. He dragged the wand down her arm and it was like having a cigarette do the same. It only hurt for a fraction of a second, and then the pleasure that followed completely overwhelmed it. It left no marks on her skin, but beneath the surface, well, there was quite a change underway in her body.

He pushed it into her nipple until it grew completely solid, and dragged it around her areola, teasing her. She was gasping softly, her breath constantly catching in her throat, her attempts to control it failing spectacularly and going completely unnoticed by Draco.

He dragged it down her right arm, and then back up again, under the curve of her breasts and in between, and then down the middle of her abdomen to trail lazily around her navel. It was clear by his pace that he was having an immense amount of fun teasing her like this, and it was also clear from the look on Hermione's face, and the soft noises that she was making, that she was greatly enjoying it.

_That's one spell I NEED to learn_ , she thought to herself, her mind quite clouded.

Draco flicked his wand, and the ember at the end seemed to disappear. He pocketed it again, and grinned at her.

She was rendered nearly incomprehensible. "How… How… Wh-what did you do to me?"

"Handy little spell, isn't it?" was all he said in reply.

"But what about you?" she managed to ask weakly.

"You'll soon find that I don't need any of that." He was still feeling the after effects of pulling out of Pansy early. He pulled apart Hermione's legs. She stretched them out as wide as they would go, and slid herself forward until she was at the edge of the table.

She looked expectantly at him. Draco was looking back at her, serious this time, only a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

" _You_ have to take care of this mess before my face goes anywhere  _near_  there," he gestured to the patch of hair just above her legs.

" _Oh,_ " she said. Hermione didn't really consider it as part of her upkeep. She might trim it down if she was in the mood while in the bath once in a blue moon, but she wasn't used to getting any action, so she hadn't previously felt any need. But now, she scrambled mentally to search for a suitable spell that would do the job.

He sighed, and now it seemed that it was  _he_  who was in a hurry. He pulled out his wand again and cast the same spell as earlier. The tip of his wand once more glowed, and as he dragged it across that region, Hermione noticed that, along with the intense burning/pleasure sensation, her hair was  _disappearing._ Soon he had covered the length of it, and she was entirely hairless save for a tiny v-shaped patch at the top.

"Why'd you leave that bit?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"So that I won’t  _ever_ be reminded of Pansy Parkinson while I do this," he bit out, and then lowered himself to his knees.

His hands found her thighs, and they rested there, keeping them apart as he went to work.  _Of course_  he began by further teasing her, his lips clamping down on her clit, pulling at it ever so lightly with his teeth. His lips wrapped against it, and soon his tongue found its way out of his mouth, to flick it around. Judging by the fact that the wetness had already spread to her legs, he determined that Ms. Granger was badly in need of an orgasm.

So he gave it to her. His tongue found its way between the folds of her pussy, and suddenly she was in heaven. She had never felt anything like it, the way his tongue, so thick and muscular, was artfully weaving its way around her anatomy. He pushed it in as far as it would go, and began to grind it against her inner walls, the wetness flowing freely now. He would grind it against the upper wall, and then draw out slowly before forcing it back in against the sides. All the while he kept his fingers busy with her clit. It took all of Hermione's determination to keep her legs apart, desperately desiring to wrap them around Draco's neck in a death grip to keep him at it.

And suddenly Draco knew that she was on the edge. It might have been the way her inner walls were pushing against his tongue, or the way she was moaning his name, quite loudly, for any and all willing to hear. Regardless, Draco pulled his tongue out until he was just running it up and down against her entrance at a rapid pace, and she screamed loudly as the orgasm broke inside her.

It was nothing quite like he had seen before, at least not from that, anyway. God, maybe Pansy wouldn't be such a loser if she came like this.

Hermione shook and gasped, her breathing irregular, low moans escaping in between her attempts to catch her breath.

She sat up. She had a million things she wanted to tell him. But all she could manage to do was choke out in a hoarse voice, "Why?"

"I owed you for last night," he explained, shrugging it off a little too easily. Hermione knew this wasn’t completely true, but she wasn't about to argue. After an orgasm like that, she  _just didn't care_.

"But what about you?" her voice betrayed genuine concern, and she blushed as he noticed.

"I'm getting to that. Just wait damn it." He unbuttoned his trousers quickly and slid them down, pulling his wand out first.

Hermione began to feel nervous again. "Draco, I don't know who  _you've_  been sleeping with, but normal girls don't work this fast. I can't just go from one orgasm straight into another like that."

"Yes, you can, because I know how."

She slipped off the table, to her knees, seeing his cock again. It was semi-hard from everything he'd witnessed and been a part of so far, and she could see the precome glistening on the tip.

It didn't take much. She stroked him quickly until he was once more at his full length, and then returned to her position on the table.

He stepped forward to approach her, but first picked up his wand and muttered another incantation. It seemed like a black silk rag had shot from the end of his wand, but it was decidedly more magical than that, Hermione realized, as it wrapped itself around her thigh, firmly, but not constricting the circulation. No, it seemed to be constricting something else.

"What's that thing 'round my leg, and why the hell can't I feel…anything?"

" _Fucking patience,_ Granger," he snapped.

He thrust into her, and she still half expected to feel the aftershocks that she got when she sometimes played with herself after an orgasm. But nothing came. It was…  _weird._ Draco was definitely thrusting in and out of her, his legs pounding into the edge of the table, but if she hadn't been able to see and hear that he was inside of her, she never would have known.

"You might be bored now," he bit out, never stopping his rhythm, "But don't expect it to last. Just as soon as I'm ready, you will be too."

He growled and leaned in to kiss her, biting her lip gently while he did. Now _that_ she could feel. He pushed her down, scattering books and parchment all over the floor. Neither of them cared. He leaned over again, this time to take a nipple in his mouth. He had stopped thrusting, but as she looked down she could see that his fingers had once more found her clit.

His tongue swirled around her nipple and though she could feel it, like she felt his teeth on her lips, she felt numb to it. So instead she settled for watching Draco. That was entertaining. She could do something that very few people (Only the practitioners of this spell, she supposed), got to do, which was look objectively at their partner while having sex.

Generally, as was demonstrated by the last time, Hermione was barely conscious enough of what she was doing to even remember. Now, though, she could lean back and watch Draco, watch him bite his lower lip, see the frenzy in his eyes, feel the rhythmic pulse of his resumed shagging, but not feel any of it. It was quite beautiful, the way the blue flames cast against his pale skin. It made him look otherworldly. The sheen of sweat that had come with his efforts was also reflected by the firelight, and she enjoyed it immensely.  _Maybe this isn't so bad after all._

Going off the look on his face, she knew that he was getting close. She was unsure of how this would work. Once more, much to Hermione's amazement, he pulled out when he came. She had briefly prepared for the possibility of Draco doing it inside of her earlier, and so had cast protection over herself while bantering. She didn't think he'd noticed, and if he had he didn't mention anything.

_This_  she could feel. She could feel it quite acutely as the hot ropes of his ejaculation landed on her skin, and suddenly, again she desired to feel. She wanted an orgasm, and she wanted it  _now._  She wanted to feel what Draco Malfoy was surely feeling as he let go above her.

When he had finished, he wore his widest grin yet.

"You ready for this, Granger?"

She wasn't sure what he was talking about, but she said, "Do your worst," in as confident a voice as she could manage.

He pulled out his wand again, and flicked it, and the black cloth whatever-the-hell-it-was disappeared.

And suddenly she slammed her arms down into the table, and she was screaming; howling herself hoarse. Writhing and screaming and having the most intense pleasure she had ever experienced in all her years alive. She remembered feeling as though her head would explode as her eyes rolled up into her head and her vision was lost.

Everything went black.

She awoke on the cool stone floor what felt like hours later. Draco was crouching over her, fully dressed once more. He had at least had the courtesy to toss the clothing over top of her, to protect at least that much of her modesty.

She sat up, the t-shirt falling away, her chest exposed again. She didn't care. "What the FUCK just happened to me?" she demanded.

"You told me to do my worst," Draco smiled, "So I did."

She glared at him, clearly not satisfied with his explanation.

He continued, "That spell… constricts your orgasm. You witnessed the effects yourself: Any sexual pleasure you may receive while under the effects of the spell is stored in the darkness that clung there to your leg. It gave you time to recover while I could have my way. Generally, to avoid a scene like what just happened, you can release the spell gradually, allowing the pleasure to wash back in.  _But since you asked so kindly_ , I decided to oblige, and I made everything to return at once."

Hermione wasn't necessarily complaining. It had been dangerous, and reckless of him, but it  _had_  been the best orgasm of her life.

She was about to berate him further when two people burst through the doorway. Both of them armed with wands, Cho Chang and Roger Davies were quite stunned to see Draco Malfoy crouched over a partially nude Hermione Granger.

Hermione scrambled up and grabbed wildly for her t-shirt as Cho Chang looked away in embarrassment. Davies didn't bother averting his gaze and instead grinned lazily.

"We heard screaming and thought someone was hurt," Cho Chang said, eyes burning holes in the floor, the blush clear on her cheeks.

"Nope," Draco replied hastily, and Hermione looked on in mortification. "Just really great sex."

Hermione wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out again. She punched Draco on the arm with all the force she could muster, but Cho had already darted from the room. Roger Davies gave her a quick wink and strolled out after Cho, grinning.

"Never again in the library," Hermione snapped at him.

"Are you telling me there's going to be a next time?" Draco asked coyly.

"Well, unless you feel that Pansy would be a better shag…" Hermione trailed off, gathering her books into her bag.

Draco just gave her a look, and they strolled out of the library together.

* * *

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3- Distractions

 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood against the wall outside in the fourth floor corridor. They were early, but that was because to be anything  _but_  early for Snape's class might get you a week's worth of detentions.

Hermione was not looking forward to this class at all. She didn't look forward to any class taught by Snape at the best of times, but this would be the first class she'd had with Draco Malfoy since… Well, since Friday night’s… _events_. It had her downright nervous. Her friends didn't seem to notice it at all, but she could almost feel the tension in the air as she stepped into the class. It only electrified when Draco walked in, several minutes late.

His eyes didn't even stop on her as they passed over the class. His face was an expressionless mask as he sat down, but she thought she could see a glimmer in his eyes. Perhaps she could just be imagining things; those grey eyes could melt stone if they wanted.

She felt herself sigh inwardly as she sat there. She didn't really expect anything more from him, but at least he was ignoring her now. The old Draco would have sneered at her, or teased her as he passed by. Now, just silence.

_Well, it's an improvement,_  she thought.

When Draco had resumed his seat, Snape smiled cruelly at the class and watched with satisfaction as it fell silent. They knew he had something awful planned. Generally, whenever Snape was in a good mood it meant that things were about to go very badly for everyone else.

"Counter-jinxes." He said grimly. "We're going to devote the next two weeks of study of the counter-jinx. In times such as these, one must know how to counter as much of their opponent’s magic as possible."

He flicked his wand up and writing began to appear on the board. "We will begin with the theory," he droned lazily, "And then progress to practical applications."

Hermione, thoroughly interested, began to scribble down notes at top speed. Magical theory, this was her element. She noted that Harry and Ron looked far less enthused, but tucked that into the tiny corner of her brain that gave a damn what they thought about education. She'd long ago learned to live with the fact that they weren't scholars.

Her mind momentarily wandered to Draco again. She wondered if  _he_  would be more excited about the work than her friends were. She deliberated with herself for a long moment, and then risked a glance backward, to the right, where she knew he was sitting. It was where he always sat.

Much to her disappointment (and she found it odd that she was even disappointed), Draco Malfoy sat there unmoving, his things not even unpacked, a lazy smirk on his face. The smirk only widened when he noticed that she was looking at him. Hermione hastily turned back around, a blush spreading across her cheeks.  _Great, real tactful Hermione_ , she told herself.

She buried herself into the notes, trying to forget her embarrassment. It was fortunate that her friends hadn't noticed. Harry was pretending to copy notes and Ron looked as though it was taking every ounce of willpower to keep his head from his desk. She noticed that Snape seemed in an odd mood. Generally he would lecture the class endlessly about whatever subject he was teaching, but he seemed preoccupied with something else at the time, and sat at his desk, lost in thought, while the silent class copied the notes.

She had been drifting off, still copying the notes as diligently as she ever did, when something strange began to happen. Her skin began to tingle slightly. She barely noticed it at first, thought she was imagining things, and ignored it to continue with her notes. But the feeling grew more persistent. It was like an ice cube was drifting across her skin, and she recognized the same so-hot-it's-cold feeling from when she was with Draco. She wasn't cold, but the goose bumps were clear. Apparently he could do the same trick without having to press his wand to her skin. Fantastic.

She turned around and shot a glare at Draco Malfoy. It was her warning glare; the same glare that found its way into her eyes whenever Ron was making a joke about SPEW, or Harry was asking her for help on an essay. They would never be able to meet her eyes when she unleashed that death glare on them, but she found, quite to her surprise, that Draco stared right back, smiling broadly. The rest of the class didn't seem to notice.

She knew he wasn't going to be stopped, so she turned back around and tried to summon as much dignity as she had, forcing herself to return to her notes and ignore that filthy, gorgeous animal behind her.

_Great, mental commentary, you're not helping._

She could outlast him. She would not let his little annoyances get to her, no matter how hard he tried. Of course, once back in class, things would be the same as they ever were. Some people never change. She was just beginning a paragraph on how to counteract the bat-bogey hex when she felt her breath catch in her throat.

_Oh god no,_  she thought. But sure enough, there it was. The sensation that had previously been rolling up and down her arms had no drifted lower.  _Dangerously lower._ She panicked. She had not foreseen this at all. He wouldn't dare. He couldn't. But he  _was._

She looked very carefully up at Snape. He was still at his desk, grading papers or doing something else equally menial. It was unusual, but she was grateful that Draco's actions had not caught his attention.

Just then she felt a familiar sensation that she couldn't place. But the teasing stopped. It was only then that she realized she was wet. Flushed with embarrassment, she returned to her work.

Draco did not bother her for the rest of the class. She was determined not to look back at him, not to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had gotten to her. She was better than that.

Class was almost over; she kept fervently glancing at the clock, which was not like her. Five minutes left… Four… Three… 

 

And then something very, very bad happened.

Out of nowhere, she felt an orgasm building. Just as suddenly, it stopped, fading away. Her head whirled around to face Draco, and the delighted look in his eyes was enough to make her vision go red. He had got her, alright. She recalled the earlier sensation, and felt for her thigh. There was no mistaking it. A strip of cloth, most certainly black, was wrapped around it. _Oh no. Oh no. Draco, don't you dare. Don't. You. Dare._

She could practically feel his eyes on her, and she knew that it wouldn't be long.

_Be merciful Draco!_  She thought feverishly to herself.  _Yeah, fat chance._

Her hand shot into the air. She needed to get out of there  _now._  Already she had gathered up her books with her free arm.

Professor Snape's malevolent gaze had finally made its way up to Hermione. After studiously ignoring her for, what like to Hermione, felt like an eternity, he said, "What is it, Miss Granger?"

"Sir, I have to be excused! Terrible headache, need to see Madam Pomfrey immediately."

She knew that she was out of time. Before he could protest or make a cruel joke at her expense, she was out of the class, down the hall.

And then he removed the spell.

She screamed out, long and low, her books falling to the floor just before she did. The pleasure was intense, traveling in waves through her body. It sent a spasm through her, and she felt as though she were on fire, or possessed, she didn't know, or care which. On her knees, she gasped for air. She sat there, on all fours, for a long time, noticing that unlike with their previous encounter, the cloth was still very much there, but this time just held loosely against her thigh by her pants. She had no idea how Draco would contain himself, when surely he must have heard her.

A few seconds later, Harry and Ron were on her. Ron was helping her up while Harry gathered up her books. She realized dazedly that she couldn't stand on her own, and that she was leaning rather heavily on Ron. She checked his ears, and found them to be rather red.

"What the hell happened?" Harry asked.

"Really bad migraine," Hermione choked out. There was no way she would ever tell them the truth. She managed to stand, albeit shakily, on her own.

"I just need to get to the hospital wing. Can you take my books back up to the Common Room for me?"

"Sure."

Harry, with one last curious glance, left. Ron was more difficult to deal with.

"I should go with you, just to make sure you're okay."

"No, no, it's fine," she said quickly, "I need to stop by the bathrooms anyway."

"Oh, that's fine. I can just wait in the hall…"

She racked her brains frantically for an excuse. The post-orgasmic haze was definitely  _not_  helping her out here. Finally, she managed, "It's okay. Isn't that Potions essay due tomorrow, anyway?"

Ron's face paled rapidly. She had found her trump card. He stopped walking with her and rubbed the back of his neck guiltily.

"You don't mind?" he finally said.

"It's fine. Just go ahead, I'll see you back there later."

He waved awkwardly and left. Hermione made a beeline for the nearest bathroom. After locking herself into a stall, she sat on the toilet and yanked down her pants. Sure enough, she found the black cloth.

There was writing on it.

In white, chalky letters, the words: _11 PM. Prefect's bathroom. Password is 'Oleander'_ were written on it.

He wanted to meet her again. After  _that?_  She would go alright, and she'd bring a curse or two with her as well.

The rest of the day flew by. Hermione sat in the stall for quite some time, and then made her way back up to the Common Room. Harry and Ron eyed her questioningly, but she assured them that Madam Pomfrey had just given her a headache cure. She didn't know whether they believed her or not, so she excused herself to go take a  _very_  hot shower.

She spent most of the rest of the evening helping Ron with his Potions essay. Soon enough, it was approaching 10:30. Ron and Harry decided to go to bed. They bought her excuse about staying up to do Arithmancy easily enough (they didn't question her when it came to Arithmancy), and so she was free to leave the Common Room to go to the Prefect's Bathroom without incident.

She was paranoid, constantly checking over her shoulder to make sure that she hadn't been seen. Therefore, it was with great relief when she arrived at the painting of the white elephant without being detected. She spoke the password softly and stepped inside.

Her wand was out, but, in truth, she was unprepared for the attack. She had expected to find Draco there, lolling about somewhere, waiting for her to yell at him, perhaps curse him, and then have glorious makeup sex on whatever flat surface was available. That had been her plan.

Instead, she found herself thrown up to the ceiling, unable to move. She stared down at Draco Malfoy, who stepped out of the shadows, toting his wand, grinning broadly. It was probably the happiest she'd ever seen him. He disarmed her quickly and then stood, still smiling, and announced:

"We're going to do things  _my_  way, this time."

_Was this his way?_ She supposed she didn't mind, though she had to wonder how she'd be able to have sex with him, glued to the ceiling.

She didn't have to wonder long, as she floated back down. Facedown, resting just above the ground, her nose brushed the floor. She found that she still couldn't move, however, and disarmed as she was, being able to move would have only eased some of her nervousness, rather than provided any effectiveness in wreaking the revenge she had planned for Draco Malfoy.

_Flip me over, you git!_

She didn't like how silent he was being. She also didn't like that she was unable to speak at all. It made her deeply uncomfortable that he seemed to be looking at her a little too closely. A blush involuntarily formed on her cheeks. For the moment she was grateful to be facing the stone floor, so that he couldn't see.

She felt herself rising up slowly, until she was half a meter or so clear of the floor. She rotated slowly, only catching a glimpse of the bare walls before she was lying, now face up, on the floor.  _Hooray._

"Well, Granger. Judging by the way you keep going cross-eyed, I'd say you have an itch that needs scratching." She did not miss the double meaning.

He smirked his favourite self-satisfied smirk, and brushed a finger across the bridge of her nose. He let it trail down her cheek, and she felt as he pushed slightly harder as it found its way down her neck, choked as it made little circles around the base of her neck and her collarbone.

"So, Granger, did you enjoy yourself today?"

She gritted her teeth, but that was all she could manage. She hated not being able to speak.

He smiled down at her. "I thought you might. Good thing you didn't black out in the hallway. Might have left Weasley a little worried for your health..."

She knew that he was goading her. She ground her teeth a bit more.

"In fact," he said, as his fingers found the buttons of her blouse, "I think it's  _Weasley_  that has to look out for his own health, what with that beast he's shagging now, who  _knows_  what she's carrying around."

Hermione didn't particularly appreciate the implication, but the fact that he referred to Lavender Brown as a 'beast' greatly contented her. Perhaps more than it should.

She waited with eager anticipation as he continued removing the buttons. He pulled the shirt wide, her abdomen and breasts exposed to the cool air of the room. She reacted instantly, much to her embarrassment.

Draco ignored this, and continued the steady trail of her body with his icy, merciless index finger. It ran long laps around her chest, just above her breasts, broad circles beneath them, and finally, he was trailing his finger slowly around her navel.

She was fired up by this point. It frustrated her deeply that Draco had not advanced yet. She was expecting him being all over her by now, like the the last time. Instead, he'd barely even got her shirt off.  _What gives, Draco?_

His fingers traced a slow, slow descent to the button on her pants. She wanted desperately to shiver, but found herself unable to move.

He unzipped the pants, and pulled them down very quickly. They made it to her knees. She was quite wet, but Draco ignored this, instead standing up and turning around.

"You know," he said quietly, "I think it's a nice night for a bath."

_No._

But he did. Safely outside of her peripheral vision, he undressed, making sure to toss his clothing where she  _could_ see. She heard him sink slowly into the water of the pool with a sigh. She was dying over here. There were a dozen things that she needed to do, not least of which was  _shag his brains out_ , but still, unable to move, she was left helpless, to listen to Draco, naked, swim laps around the pool. She found her imagination frolicking wildly in a field full of naked Malfoys.

_This has got to stop._

She lay there. And she lay there. And longer still, she lay there. She wasn't sure just what the  _hell_  Draco was doing, or how a male could take that long of a bath, but she was left to brood in silence for quite some time.

Finally, a shadow passed over her face. Of course it was Draco, and of course he had given her a world-class view. Her eyes lit up hungrily and he grinned down at her wolfishly.

"Like what you see?"

And,  _Merlin,_  did she ever. Her eyes raked over the translucent paleness of his skin. The light of the bathroom threw shadows over the contours of his chest, and she could see the etched features, displayed quite brilliantly.  _When did he get so strong?_  She thought in awe. Her fingers ached to touch his hard chest, his defined abs. She wanted grip his broad shoulders, his muscular arms. Her eyes trailed slowly down his torso, and finally landed on the, ahem,  _most prominent_  feature of his immaculate anatomy.

She stared up as his erection loomed over her inert form. He turned away again, and she felt herself despair.

"Tell you what, Granger," he said, off in the distance. "I'll let you go free. I'm feeling merciful. If you don't try and go for your wand."

She waited. She could hear the shrug in his voice when he said, "Shagging a body-bound witch isn't any fun anyway. I imagine it's like fucking a corpse post-rigor-mortis. And I'm not much one for necrophilia."

She felt her limbs unfreeze, she felt the warmth running back through them, felt her heartbeat in her ears. It took her a moment to gain her legs, but when she did she was charging at Draco, forgetting her wand entirely.

"You git!" she yelled, pounding on his chest. "You foolish, selfish prick! How  _dare_  you leave me there!"

He looked more and more amused as her ranting continued, and even though he held his wand, he didn't attempt to stop her. Instead, as she continued beating on him to the best of her abilities, he set his wand down. Her voice rose a pitch as he swept her legs out from underneath her and scooped her up, but she continued berating him.

Finally, he said " _Granger._ "

She stopped and looked at him.

"Shut  _up_."

And he tossed her, still fully clothed, into the pool. She flailed about below the surface before her head finally poked above the water. She gasped and spluttered, as though she was trying her hardest to speak, but no words were coming out.

She gave up trying to convey her emotions with words, and instead settled for just glaring at him. He only grinned in reply, quickly slipping back into the warm water.

She knew, even before he swam up to her, what was going to happen. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders beneath the water and kissed her. Their noses pushed against each other, but neither would break the kiss. She knew then, in that moment, that the rest of the day hadn't mattered in the least to either of them.

She shrugged her shirt off desperately as they kissed, she didn't care that it floated away, she didn't care that she had lost her pants earlier while being thrown in. All that mattered was getting the remaining clothing off. Soon her bra and panties had joined her shirt. Her pants were  _Merlin knows where_. But she didn't care. He was the focus of all her attention.

He pulled her slippery body up the stairs and then pushed her down into them. She ignored the pain.

" _Here?_ " she asked nervously.

"I prefer heated marble to cold stone, yeah?" he growled.

She didn't protest.

"Turn around," he ordered. She spun so that she wasn't facing him. She was on all fours, supporting herself on the stairs, completely naked, her ass in the air. And then she felt it, and the world went quiet. Draco skipped the entire preamble, and just went straight to fucking her. She figured the teasing must take a lot out of him, too, even if he did get some kind of odd pleasure from it.

Her eyes bulged slightly with the first stroke. He wasn't taking his time with it at all, and he wasn't being gentle about it. Last time, Draco eased himself in gradually so that it didn't hurt her, but little spots of colour were appearing before her eyes now as he wedged himself deeper,  _fast._

She began to protest, but he silenced her, smacking her ass. She wasn't quite sure what to make of that. The pain was raw at first, but the tingling sensation left afterward wasn't entirely unpleasant.

"Fuck you, Draco," she snarled through gritted teeth.

"Will do." She heard him growl again, and he slammed his hips into her with such force that she went elbows-first into the stairs. She cried out in pain, but he ignored her, continuing.

His long fingers, cold and skilled, had a firm grip on her hips while he worked. He was practically holding her up, and considering how hard his fingernails were digging into her skin, it was a good thing he was; otherwise she would go crashing into the stairs again. Her limbs were weak enough as it was from the thrashing Draco was giving her.

Before long she was rocking back into him, matching his pace so that they thrust into each other. It sent pain and pleasure through her body each time they collided. Draco seemed to be in frenzy, and she was dimly aware of the fact that she didn't mind at all. This was sex at its best. 

Their rhythm grew faster, more ragged, with each desperate for their own release. Faster, and faster, and faster. Draco was grunting loudly, thrusting into her with as much force as possible. She responded with equal fervor.

Finally, he came. He didn't pull out this time, and Hermione had a momentary heart attack until she remembered that it was safe. She had already performed the necessary charm earlier in the day, so she relaxed and enjoyed the feeling as Draco unloaded inside her. She decided she liked the feeling once she convinced herself that it was harmless. She could feel her own orgasm building steadily, and Draco was forcing himself to give it to her. Fortunately she wasn't too far behind him, and she let out a little cry of passion as she felt the waves of pleasure building inside her, overwhelming her. Her orgasm was upon her, and she slumped forward into the stairs as it consumed her. Draco, satisfied with her response, pulled out.

They lay there like that, half in the water, the air scalding the parts that weren’t in the water. Hermione couldn't tell whether it was sweat or water that coated her, she imagined a bit of both, but she decided to take a few laps to cool off. She was vaguely aware of spotting her bra floating off in the corner of the pool. She ignored it as she swam around slowly, acutely aware of how weak she felt. Draco just lay in the shallows, breathing heavily.

She pushed herself up over the edge of the pool to get out. She knew that she was flashing Draco quite spectacularly as she dragged herself out of the pool, but by this point she didn't care.  _Nothing he hadn't seen before, anyway_ , she thought, and it surprised her to find this to be true.

Rather than fish about for her clothing, she found her wand, tossed lazily against one of the walls, and used it to summon her clothing. She sounded quite ridiculous saying 'Accio panties!' but it was faster than getting them out by hand. All of her clothing landed in a wet heap by her feet.

She used an incantation to quickly dry them off with jets of hot air. When they were reasonably dry, she did the same to her hair and the rest of her body. She couldn't help but react to the heat, drawing comparisons to the spell that Draco had used on her, but she ignored it and forced herself to stay in control. She could wait another night.

Draco was still lazing about in the pool as she redressed. His pale body shimmered below the surface, glorious in the dim light.

She smiled shyly at him. "I think I like it when we do things your way."

His air of smugness instantly returned. "Better get used to it," was all he had to say, winking before Hermione swept around and strode out the portrait hole.

*~*

 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – Secrets

The June haze was rapidly beginning to work its way into the heads of the students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Thoughts of summer consumed them, and the end of the term drew ever closer. The trio, however, had greater concerns.

It was another balmy June morning, with all the promise of intense heat later on in the day. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat in the Great Hall for breakfast, though they were hardly eating. The news that Harry would be accompanying Dumbledore on the search for the Horcrux had had the trio talking since, trying to guess at what it would be and where it would be hidden.

"He said Voldemort liked to make his Horcruxes personal things, right?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded his assent. "Well then doesn't it stand to reason that it might be something from the orphanage? What if he returned there, pretended to be interested in adoption maybe, and they didn't recognize him?"

"You really think he just decided to make a Horcrux in the middle of an orphanage?" Ron asked.

"Well… No. But he doesn't have to, does he? He could have had it already made, and was just looking for a place to hide it."

They considered this while the post came in. In the usual cacophony of owls however, Hermione noticed something strange. A silvery owl was heading straight for her, a letter in hand. It didn't look familiar, and it couldn't be one of the Daily Prophet's owls.

She watched it curiously as it came to a graceful landing on the edge of the table. It held out its leg, turning its beak up toward the ceiling, as though it disdained the idea of having a person remove the letter. Hermione freed it and the bird barely glanced her way before taking flight once more.

She turned the letter over in her hands. It was unmarked, and the envelope left unsealed. She risked a glance at Harry and Ron, neither of whom had noticed her, as Ron was reading aloud from a letter he had just received from Charlie. She quickly ripped the letter out of the envelope and looked it over. The cold, meticulous script stared back at her. Only a single line was written on the page, in deep blue ink:

' _Meet tonight on the 7th floor at 12:30 if you want to keep your secret.'_

Her heart rose into her throat. She'd forgotten (or rather tried to forget) that she had been walked in on because they had heard her screaming at the top of her lungs during orgasm. The humiliation, and the fear, was enough to make her blush involuntarily at the table. She took a deep breath and read through the message a few more times, but still couldn't discern whether it was Cho or Roger Davies. The writing was almost in block letters. It was impossible to say who wrote it. She suspected Davies, the pervert. She sighed and folded the message away.

Hermione resolved to go. She had no choice. Regardless of who it was, or what they wanted, she had to go, or her tryst with Draco Malfoy would become public. And the chances are that she would be killed immediately. She shuddered to think of how Lucius Malfoy would react if he knew what his son was doing with a Muggle-born girl.

The day passed with out incident for Hermione. Strangely, Draco wasn't present for any of their classes. She wondered what he was doing, if he was sick, or just skipping, and whether this would affect her chances of seeing him again tonight. Hermione would never admit it, but she  _needed_  Draco now. Life without him inside her wasn't life at all.

She halted her thought process there. Not a good idea to get that worked up when there's nothing to be done about it. Regardless, she sighed at the thought of going a night unfulfilled.

_Really, Hermione?_  She thought.  _Control yourself. You don't need to have sex with Draco Malfoy every night to feel alive_.

But she did. She couldn't lie to herself. When she was with him she felt better than she ever had in her life. It was incomparable. She didn't understand him, and she didn't want to, just as long as it meant they could keep this up. She didn't even want to think about the long summer alone.

Elsewhere in the castle, Harry was finishing his last class of the day. He stepped out into the crowded hallway, with Ron at his side.

"Binns is  _mad_  if he thinks I'm going to do all that," Ron said, groaning about the heaps of homework they had been assigned.

"Why the bloody hell are we even taking this class still?" Harry muttered. His scowl deepened further when he saw someone approaching them across the hall. It was Roger Davies, his usual careless smirk replaced by an odd seriousness.

"Davies looks like he'd plow through the whole hall just to get to you," Harry muttered.

"He's probably just busy concentrating on not running into anything. Takes all his brain power," Ron whispered back.

Harry stifled a snicker as Davies approached. He took one quick, disdainful look at him before he said, "Tell Scarhead to take a hike."

"Whatever you want from me, Harry can hear about it," Ron said firmly.

Davies glanced at Harry and sighed. "I'm not going to tell you anything more, but I know something you don't know. Something the both of you would be very interested in knowing. You'd best ask your friend Hermione about it, as I have an appointment in the third floor bathroom with Miss Weasley."

He departed with a wink before Harry could curse him. It was no secret that Harry didn't like Roger Davies. Everyone had always assumed it was because Cho Chang had hooked up with him after Harry, but in reality, it was because he had been hitting on Ginny at every opportunity he got. And since they played Quidditch against each other, those opportunities arose a lot more than Harry would like. Ron stood there spluttering, his entire head turning tomato-like in hue.

They went to dinner that evening to find Davies there as well. He grinned at them and Harry fought the urge to hex him across the room. So Harry and Ron and Harry proceeded to fill Hermione in on Davies cryptic message. She felt cold panic course through her veins. She knew that he was testing her, so it must be him. But he wouldn't. He wouldn't  _dare_  tell them. Maybe this was just a bluff to scare her into giving him what he wanted.

But she knew that she couldn't assume that. This was a warning that if she didn't show up tonight, she would be fucked, and not literally.

"So," Harry said, finishing the story, "What the hell was he talking about?"

Hermione's eyes went wide. Her mind elsewhere, she forgot that she was supposed to be making up a story. She stumbled, "Uhmmm… I really don't know. I think he's trying to make it sound like I know something about… er, Ginny. He's just trying to get back at you guys because he's an asshole Ravenclaw."

Harry gritted his teeth. "I'm going to hex that slimeball  _into_  a slimeball." Ron made similar threatening remarks. Hermione wasn't really listening. She was too relieved that they hadn't suspected her lie.

The night passed slowly, agonizingly. Hermione attempted to distract herself with homework, but this wouldn't do. She was caught, blindsided by Davies' treachery and helpless to the slow burn of her need for Draco.  _Damn them both_ , she thought. She hated that she had somehow become dependent on both of them. Draco for sex, and Davies for keeping his mouth shut. The former was thankfully becoming a common occurrence and the latter was entirely impossible. Great.

Harry and Ron went off to bed around 11. She made an excuse about continuing to work, which they of course bought. No one ever questioned Hermione when it came to homework. It was about time she took advantage of that, she thought.

She tried to continue doing homework, but when she found herself checking her watch every minute and a half, she decided to continue knitting SPEW garments. She'd given up on the possibility of actually improving the house elves conditions long ago, but it was still a nice excuse to do some knitting, something she found quite relaxing.

She found herself blinking, her vision flitting between the needles in front of her and darkness. The last thing Hermione remembered was resting the needles against the chair.

She blinked again. Checked the time. 12:20. She went to pick up her needles again before her eyes flew back to her watch. 12:20.  _FUCK!_  She had fallen asleep! Hermione practically jumped out of her chair and raced to the portrait hole, cursing herself. She had ten minutes to get to the 7th floor or Davies would rat. She knew he wouldn't wait for her. If she wasn't there at exactly at 12:30, he'd be gone.

She whispered harshly at the Fat Lady to wake up, and she did, and rather reluctantly allowed her to step through, and then she ran for the staircase.

Hogwarts was a school that was an absolute nightmare if you were in a hurry. She fiercely envied Harry right now, with his masterful command of the secret passageways and shortcuts of the castle. She was stuck on the stairs, which had decided to reverse direction.  _I bet I'd be there by now if he was navigating_ , she thought sourly.

But she couldn't possibly bring Harry into this under any circumstances. He didn't need any more incentive to kill Draco. And really, did she? After all the things he'd done to her, here she was, desperately fighting for the right to keep shagging him. Before this thought could go any further, however, the staircase stopped with a jolt and she rushed out onto the seventh floor, not even pausing to check her watch.

Davies was waiting there, around the corner, out of sight. He heard her coming and stepped out into the hall. She was tempted to curse him and flee back to Gryffindor tower, but she took a deep breath and steadied herself instead. It would do her no good to curse Davies. That would only turn him against her. She had to find out what he wanted from her. She had a suspicion twisting around in her stomach, and she hoped she was wrong.

"Oh, I was  _hoping_  you'd show up," he grinned when she approached him.

She scowled in reply, standing with her arms folded across her chest. "What do you want?" she snarled at him.

He raised his hands. "Now hear me out. You know that I know exactly what you and young Malfoy have been getting up to-"

"Do you?" Hermione shot back. "Do you have any proof? You don't have anything. You saw  _something_ , but there could be plenty of logical explanations."

Davies stood there, listening to Hermione's desperate attempts at rationalization. His grin grew wider as she spoke. Finally Hermione glared at him. "What?"

"See, this is the best part, Granger. I don't need to be logical. I don't need to have proof. Show them evidence. This is  _gossip_. If I let this go to the right people, it'll have spread around the school in a matter of hours. There doesn't have to be any truth behind it."

"That's bullshit." Hermione replied, but she knew it sounded half-hearted.

Davies shook his head slowly, still smiling. He began to recite, "Someone once said, 'People are stupid; given proper motivation, almost anyone will believe almost anything. Because people are stupid, they will believe a lie because they want to believe it's true, or because they are afraid it might be true.'"

The logic of what he said stopped Hermione cold. The possibilities all suddenly rushed into her mind, and it nearly dropped her to her knees. The students would believe anything, especially when it came to Draco Malfoy. And where would that get her? She'd be a social pariah, and then what if  _Lucius_  found out? Surely he would. The students would all tell their parents. Word would get around. She'd be dead.

She looked at him, and then said slowly, "What do you want from me?"

He smiled. "Not much. I just want in on what Draco's getting."

Hermione realized she'd been holding her breath. She let it out with a sigh and then sucked another one in deeply. She felt sick. This is what she'd been dreading.

"What do you mean?" she said weakly.

"One time only. A threesome with Cho. That's all. Do that, and I'll forget this ever happened."

"Oh, is that all? You couldn't keep your mouth shut to save your life," she said, gritting her teeth.

"Well it's not really like you have a choice, do you? So what's it gonna be?" said Davies, his voice growing more pointed.

Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed it at Davies. "You wouldn't dare."

He smiled at her, mocking. "Do what you will. Unless you hex my lips off, you can't stop me letting the whole world know how Draco Malfoy makes you  _scream_."

She took a step forward, her wand wavering. He let out a small laugh. "There's nothing you can do."

"No, but there are  _oh so many_  things I can do," a voice growled behind him. He whipped around, and there was Draco Malfoy, striding toward them with his wand pointed straight at Davies.

Hermione ran past Davies to him, and he pushed her behind him.  _Where the fuck had he come from?_  She thought. It didn't matter now. Draco would know how to deal with this. Dealing with blackmail wasn't really one of Hermione's talents, and she'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much.

He strode straight up to Davies, remarkably quickly, and pushed his wand straight into the area of Davies' shirt where his heart must be. The Ravenclaw boy looked utterly stunned.

Draco kept his wand at Davies heart while he spoke in a low, measured voice, "I don't know what the fuck you're trying to get her to do, but you can forget it. You will never speak another word about this, and if I so much as catch wind that you may, I will find you and kill you where you stand. Doubt that and risk your life."

Davies, who had grown significantly paler, put his hands up in a gesture of defeat and began to slowly back away.

There was a noise from nearby. It was hard to make out, but it sounded like a child yelling. Hermione recognized it instantly. A house elf. What in the name of Merlin would a house elf be doing on the seventh floor at this time of night? It suddenly clicked.

Kreacher.

She heard Peeves' wicked cackle and knew that the ghost must be fighting with the elf somehow. How had she forgotten that Harry had just put Kreacher in charge tailing Draco everywhere? This was very,  _very_  bad.

"Draco," she hissed, grabbing his arm. He didn't look at her, his eyes and wand trained on Davies, who was staring down the hall at the source of the noise.

"Ah, ah, ah," Draco said as Davies turned to bolt. He raised his wand once more. "Remember, breathe a word and I'll end your life." A bolt of red light shot from Draco's wand and Davies dropped to the stone floor.

Draco flew past the body on the floor, and Hermione ran after him. They were heading back to the main stairs, which was probably a bad idea, but at least it would put seven floors between them and Peeves. He wouldn't go after them.

They got to the stairs and rushed down them, carefully navigating their way down the ever-shifting staircases. Finally, Hermione stopped to breathe. They were safe on the stairs as they shifted. She was standing behind Draco now. He seemed lost in thought.

She spun him around, and on a complete whim, pushed her lips to his. His eyes widened and he pulled her closer to him.

"Missed me?" she teased, kissing him again.

He broke off just to say "Not a chance," with a smirk before his tongue was once more in her mouth. She fought against it and pushed her own tongue into his mouth.

She was consistently amazed by how good his mouth felt, and took every advantage to explore it properly. This wasn't the Hermione Granger that Hogwarts knew. This was a new part of her reserved specifically for Draco Malfoy, and he seemed to be enjoying it immensely.

He was crushing her against him as she sucked on his upper lip, when the stairs came to an abrupt halt. Hermione would've been thrown to the floor, but Draco had her in a death grip against him, and she didn't move an inch.

Draco made to step down the stairs to the floor below, but Hermione pulled him back. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. Their lips met again, and she breathed, "I'm not done with you yet," before lowering herself to her knees with a sly smirk.

"Oh,  _hell_ , Granger! On the stairs?" It was her turn for her eyebrows to go up. "Granger?" she said, beginning to zip his trousers up again.

"Old habits die hard," he said quickly, putting her hands back on his trousers. She could feel him, rock hard, through the material. She smiled in mock sweetness.

"That's better." He looked around, instinctively checking if they were being watched as she unzipped his trousers once more.

"This is crazy, but I am definitely not complaining," Draco said. "Just thought I'd voice that out loud."

"Noted," Hermione said, before returning her attention to removing his trousers. She noticed that his knees were shaking slightly as she slowly lowered his pants to the floor. She smiled at the state his boxers were in. Dark dots of precome were numerous, and they were stretched to the breaking point against his erection.

She swatted his hands away as they went to the waistband. He began to open his mouth in protest but then thought better of it and closed it. Hermione looked up at him.

"You're a quick learner," she said with a smile. Before he could reply, she had slipped her hand inside of his boxers and was gripping him gently. He leaned back against the marble railing.

When he was fully hard, she began to pull the waistband down, ever so slowly, until the boxers were completely down and his hard-on was fully exposed. The cool air of the castle was preferable to the stuffy corridors and hallways. Hermione hadn't even broken a sweat yet.

Yet.

She began by stroking him, tugging gently up, as though milking the precome from him, and then stroking down, until her fingers had left her shaft. She followed this pattern, letting her fingers dance across his skin. It was like there was a tiny current in each of her fingers, and each time she touched him, there was a small shock across his nerves.

She was on fire and she knew it. She decided to make it more interesting for the both of them. Taking her hands away from him, he looked down at her sharply. He relaxed when he noticed that her hands had gone to the buttons of her shirt. He watched hungrily as her cleavage slowly came into view, and then was pleasantly surprised when she reached behind and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor.

Hermione gave a small gasp as her nipples became instantly hard in reaction to the cool, damp air. She took each between a finger and thumb and rubbed them quickly, ensuring they were at full extension. Draco moaned low in the back of his throat and reached forward.

She held him back. "Not just yet," she whispered. He might have protested, but she had already lowered her lips to the tip. With the way she was swirling her tongue around the head, Draco forgot entirely about the world. She used one hand to grip the base of his shaft and several fingers were splayed across the area below. Her lips, meanwhile, were hard at work, circling the head and then eventually enclosing most of his shaft as well.

She thought that since she had a free hand, she would put it to use. She cupped her breast and massaged it slowly. She was tempted to place it between her legs, but she was determined to wait. So instead, she focused on Draco with a single-minded intensity.

The precome was salty against her tongue and lips, and it was flowing freely by this point. She ignored the implications, sucking greedily, never letting a drop spill. She forced herself to take more and more of him, until there was hardly room for her hand anymore. She held it for as long as she could and then let him go completely free.

He gasped as the cold air once again hit his now-throbbing cock. He instantly reached forward to continue where she had left off, but he wasn't fast enough. She had already seized it and was stroking him furiously.

"-Mione," Draco gasped. "Going… to come-," he grunted again and she only stroked harder, until he was groaning as he came all over face. Surprisingly little got in her hair, though Hermione didn't mind. A simple cleaning spell would remove it, the very same spell she was using on the stairs behind her.

As for the come on her chest and face, that was a different story. Draco watched in a post-orgasm ecstasy as Hermione dragged her index fingers around her body, scooping the come to ensure that all of it made it into her mouth. She rose to her feet, putting her bra back on, but not bothering to clasp it again.

As she was buttoning her shirt, Draco turned to her, and in between short breaths said, "Fucking Merlin.  _Where_  did you learn to do that?"

"I'm a quick learner, too," was all she said, smiling at him again.

They departed from the stairs much later than anticipated and reached level ground once more. They were on the first floor. Draco began to drag her toward the passageway that lead down to the dungeons, but she resisted.

"What? You can't seriously be done for the night, can you?" he said, question in his eyes.

"We should do it in the Great Hall," she said, her eyes lit like there was a spark behind them.

His eyes widened. "Has someone slipped you a potion? What's wrong with you tonight?"

She smiled. "Nothing's wrong. I just thought we could make things interesting. It's not like anyone's ever in the Great Hall at this time of night. The ghosts don't even go in there because it's so big and empty."

"You would know, eh?" he said with a grin.

"Yes, if you must know I find it a very relaxing place to do homework when unable to sleep. I asked the ghosts about it ahead of time, of course."

"Sure, sure. Are we gonna do this or what?" Draco's momentary uncertainty had completely vanished before the prospects of sex with this extremely horny, and dangerously confident Hermione.

She grabbed and pulled him toward the antechamber that lead to the Great Hall. He did not need to be pulled. He reached the massive doors before she did and slowly cracked one open. He poked his head inside, but the hall was completely silent.

Draco opened the door wide enough for the both of them to squeeze through and then closed it silently behind them. It was the Great Hall as he had never seen it before. The clear June night had ensured that stars were shining through the enchanted ceiling. Between that and the plentiful moonlight, there was easily enough to see by.

"Where do you think we should go?" she whispered. She didn't know why she was whispering.

"Dunno," Draco said, and when it reverberated back from the walls, she realized that that was why.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Say the Slytherin table?"

"Ravenclaw is closest. I can't wait that long." They quickly walked toward the Ravenclaw table. Hermione reached it and sat on the bench, quickly taking off her trousers.

"Up," Draco grunted, motioning for her to sit on the table. She proceeded, and lay flat on her back, staring up at the beautiful ceiling.

There was no disguising the enormous wet spot in her panties, and she didn't try. Instead she began to rub herself through the material, pushing her middle finger along her entrance. It came away sticky. She held it out for Draco to suck on. He licked it clean for her and gave a satisfied moan at the state of her panties.

"You know," Hermione said, "This is where Chang and Davies are going to be eating breakfast."

They both grinned. "Good," they said in unison. There was no time to further comment, Draco was already hard at work, pushing against Hermione's wet entrance through the material of her panties.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, take them off!" she groaned at him. He smirked and complied.

She leaned back and couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips as his tongue dragged its way across her pussy. It'd echoed back through the hall but she was far past the point of caring. She pushed his head deeper into her and she arched her hips up to meet his tongue. She saw sparks in her vision when his lips clamped around her clit.

"Oh… Draco. Draco, harder. More. I need you inside me," she moaned. "I need you now. Quit fucking around and  _start_  fucking around." She sighed, "That doesn't make any sense, does it?"

He nodded his head, utterly bewildered. Her head snapped up, "Why aren't you fucking me yet?"

Draco looked as though a flying brick had hit him. His shock didn't last long. Seconds later he was undressed, as Hermione threw her bra off and tossed her shirt. She didn't care where they went just as long as she was naked.

She lay back and he spread himself on top of her. He kissed her hard and fast, all across her lips and mouth, and guided himself into her. She wrapped her legs around his thighs to get more of him inside of her, and breathed heavily on his neck.

"Fuck me until you die," she whispered.

"That might happen sooner than you think," he said. Before she could even consider this, he pulled out and thrust back in with stunning force, sending Hermione reeling. All thoughts of Draco's cryptic response were gone.

He picked up a steady rhythm and hammered into her. Their sweat mingled at the contact between their flesh. Hermione was pulling him close on top of her, moaning. Draco was straining against this, trying to gain more length to fuck her harder. It was a constant battle.

Finally, Hermione had had enough of fighting for dominance. "Get up," she said. Draco looked at her, but pulled out and stood on his knees on the table.

"Lie down," she ordered. He questioned her with his eyes. "Trust me, you'll like this."

He lay down on his back on the table. His cock pointed straight up to his chest, precome pooling on his abs as he waited for her. He looked up to see what she was doing. She was kneeling, her legs on either side of his chest, and was lowering herself down. She reached for his cock, giving it a few gentle strokes before placing it at the opening to her pussy. She guided it in and put all of her weight down on it, slamming into Draco's pelvis.

He gasped. He watched her breasts bouncing as she began rhythmically pounding against him. She would rock forward and back, sliding her pussy up and down the length of his cock. He was almost powerless to do anything, as her legs had pinned his chest and offered very few options for movement. Beyond that, he didn't want to do much moving. He was far too entranced with what Hermione Granger was doing to him.

Draco didn't need to worry about the pace she was setting. It was both harder and faster than he could've thought possible. She'd started off traversing the complete length of his shaft, but this had been too slow, however hard it might allow her to fuck him. It wasn't enough. She began to move less and less, but consequentially faster, and the force never let up. Her breasts bounced faster, and it was all Draco could do to keep his head tilted forward to enjoy the view.

Her pace kept increasing. And increasing. Draco could tell from the slippery inside of her pussy that she was getting  _very_  close.

"God damnit, Draco! Impale me!" He understood her urgency, but there was nothing he could do. She set the pace.

"I'm going to come," he groaned. "Do you want me to?"

"Yes. I'm so close. Do it, Draco. Push me over the edge."

He arched his back, pushing up into her with such force that her knees momentarily left the table. He came like this, his body shuddering beneath her, come spilling into her hot, wet, crevice. She felt it inside of her, and the floodgates broke. She felt her walls clamp down around Draco's cock, milking it as the waves of orgasm traversed her body. He held her on top of him for several minutes until her orgasm receded, and she could regain control of her limbs. He watched the rise and fall of her chest, the swell of her pale breasts in the starlight as she caught her breath on top of him.

"I hope… Davies…. Can smell it in the morning," she said between breaths.

"That'd drive him mad, no doubt," Draco said, smiling. He sat up, kissed her lightly, his tongue only brushing against her lips, and vaulted over the edge to regain his clothes. She loved this about Draco. He wasn't one for pillow talk. They were done for the evening and they both saw the sense in getting out of there. There was no point in drawing it out and extending their chances of getting caught.

When they were both fully dressed, the exited the Great Hall in silence, and crept back to the stairs. Draco pulled her in for one final, passionate kiss before setting off for the dungeons.

"Pleasant dreams," she called after him. He turned to wink at her.

*~*


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – Electricity

  


A few days had passed since Hermione's last 'adventure' with Draco Malfoy. It was now getting perilously close to the end of the term, and that meant only one thing in Hermione's mind- exams. At least, that was how it used to be. Disconcertingly, she found herself to be extremely divided. One part of her, perhaps her old self, was screaming at her to study for her exams- after all, these would determine her placements for next year, and thus eventually affect her N.E.W.Ts, which were terribly important. On the other hand, however, Hermione found that she couldn't stop thinking about Draco. When she'd see him next, what they'd do. Draco was never one for repetition. She already knew that she could look forward to a fresh experience every time she was with him. It was like nothing else in her life. 

  


Sometimes she could scarcely believe it was possible, that she could be doing what she was doing. This went against everything she believed in: she was having casual sex, and with someone who had made her life  _hell_  for the last six years. Her secret was not to think about the implications. And it was easier than she thought. After all, there  _were_  plenty of  _other things_  for her to think about. Like how good he felt against her. She was confident that, whatever she was doing, as long as it didn't hurt anyone, it was fine. She conveniently ignored the close brush with death Roger Davies had had the last time. Well, really, it wasn't. Draco had done him a favour, actually. Now that he wasn't going to tell a soul about what he knew, he was safe from whatever might have been done to him. A favour, she told herself.

  


She sat with Ron, Harry and most of the rest of Gryffindor house, in the Common Room, and for the first time she was like the rest of them: only vainly attempting to study for exams. She laughed inwardly when she realized that  _this_  was how it must be like for her friends.

  


Ron threw down his quill. "This rubbish isn't doing me any good. I can't remember anything!"

Hermione sighed. "Yeah, me either." She jerked her head up once she had realized her mistake and found everyone within hearing distance staring at her, disbelief etched across all of their faces.

  


"Wait, what?" Harry said. 

  


She eyed him cautiously. Hermione figured he would be less confused than the rest of them, after all, he knew that something was up, even if he had no idea what it was. No such luck, it seemed.

  


"Well, uh, I dunno," Hermione said, back-pedaling. "There's just been a lot going on. I have a right to be  _stressed_ ," she snapped at them.

  


Ron shrugged and went back to staring blankly at his transfiguration notes. The Common Room resumed, but with increased whispers. Hermione could pick them out, if she listened closely. The consensus for all of the sixth years was that if Hermione was struggling, then they should all be doubly worried. A hush fell over the room as those studying renewed their efforts.

  


For Hermione, the afternoon dragged by. It was odd; usually her Saturdays flew by, seeing as how she always had way too much to do and never enough time to do it. But now time might as well have stopped. Just the thought of him made her skin burn. She only hoped that tonight would be the night, and she could only dream of what possibilities he would turn into realities with their next encounter.

  


On the one hand, she found it almost frightening that she focused on sex this much now. She wasn't a tart. She wasn't one of those people who needed sex constantly, just the opposite, in fact. She'd always been such a "good girl." That was the excuse she used now: That she'd been a "good girl" all her life, and now she was just playing catch-up. Most people spent their teenage years building up sexual experience, and so they could take things in stride. That didn't really apply to her. She had been opened up to a whole world of experience in so short a period of time; it was only natural for her to be overwhelmed by it.

  


That was what she told herself, anyway.

  


***

  


Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, had no such excuse. His mind was hopelessly entrapped on her, and for good reason.

  


He sat on one of the sofas in the Slytherin common room, thinking. It was no secret that he had slept with nearly every eligible female in his house, and quite a few from the others. He didn't try to keep it a secret; in fact he often used it for bragging rights. But this was all different. He'd never slept with a Gryffindor,  _especially_  not a Mudblood like Hermione Granger. On the flip side, he'd never had a better shag in his life. Maybe it was something about her innocence that turned him on...

  


In any case, he'd never be able to tell anyone about it, and it infuriated him. He wanted to tell them, "I'm having the best sex of my life two or three times a week! What are  _you_  idiots doing with yourselves?" But of course he couldn't. He didn't even want to know what would be done to him if anyone important ever found out he was sleeping with a Mudblood. But no one would. Certainly Hermione would never tell anyone.

  


His mental commentary ground to a halt when he realized it... He'd just called her Hermione. Her name. It was odd, really. Sure, it might've slipped out once or twice during the sex, but she was always still 'Granger' in his head.

  


He got up with a sigh and decided to walk down to the washroom to clear his thoughts. He took his time wandering through the castle, deciding to find a bathroom on the seventh floor that he had a particular fondness for. He knew it would take forever to get there from the dungeons, but he didn't mind.

  


The late afternoon sun shone through the windows as he rose higher, and it turned the stone walls a muddled shade of red-orange. He savoured the walk, taking his time. Instead of thinking about the situation, he just found himself plotting when the next time would be. He knew this couldn't go on forever. He needed to get as much in, while he still could.

  


He decided it would be tonight.

  


Almost before he realized where he was, he had reached the bathroom on the seventh floor. He marveled at how fast the trip had passed. He stepped inside, walking over to the sinks by the far wall. He turned the taps on, and then ran his hands under the water. It was freezing cold- a pleasant surprise in the June heat. He pushed his hands across his face, careful to avoid his immaculate hair, but relishing the coolness against his skin.

  


So absorbed was he, he didn't hear the door open behind him, didn't notice someone creeping up behind him until it was almost too late.

  


He turned around in a blur and held his wand out, under her neck. When comprehension came to him, he lowered his wand, but didn't put it away. It was only Pansy.

  


She gave a nervous laugh, which trailed off when she noticed his expression. "Draco, honey, don't do that! You scared the hell out of me."

  


He said nothing as she pushed herself into him. She wrapped her arms around his back, digging her nails in through his shirt, as she whispered "Draco, why don't you  _fuck me_  anymore?"

  


It was impossible for him to avoid being turned on. She might have a face like a dog, but even he couldn't deny how good her body felt against him. He silently cursed his weakness as he felt himself growing hard against her. She smiled, flashing her teeth at him.

  


He swallowed, trying to regain his composure. "I've been... busy."

  


She grabbed his wrist. Squeezed where she knew his Dark Mark was. His eyes met hers. "I'm sure you have," she breathed. He belatedly noticed that most of her shirt was unbuttoned. The ghostly swell of her cleavage was quite visible. He felt his pants growing tighter.

  


Pansy could feel his erection pressing against her through them. She knew she was in control now. Draco, leaning against the sink behind him, slid his leg forward slightly. She took advantage of this, pushing herself against his thigh. She smiled a tight smile as she saw his eyes when he realized it: She wasn't wearing panties beneath her skirt. She ground her pussy into his thigh; to be sure he could feel the warmth of her against him. She felt his cock twitch. She saw it, too.

  


So she decided to drop her bomb, before it was too late and she forgot all about it. "Draco," she said, pausing while he looked down at her, "Who is it?"

  


His eyes narrowed sharply and he said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

  


Pansy stepped back slightly, and sighed. "Oh, come on, Draco. I'm not  _that_  stupid. I know you get around like the Weasley girl on a Friday night."

  


"Don't you  _dare_  compare me to that redhead blood-traitor slut!" He pulled her against him with more force than he had originally intended. Pansy giggled.

  


"Sorry, Draco, but you get around. So who is it this time? You can tell me." Draco hesitated. She cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe we can have a threesome..."

  


Draco said nothing, but mentally he laughed at the idea. There wasn't a shot in a million years that Hermione would ever have anything to do with Pansy, and vice versa,  _especially not_  when it came to having group sex.

  


"I don't think she'd be interested," he smirked.

  


Pansy's eyes lit up with interest. "Oooh, really? Who is it, Draco? Is it Chang? I bet I could get her in bed with us. She's such a whore anyway. Y'know I've never slept with an Asian..."

  


Draco decided to go with Chang, which he hoped was just a lucky guess on Pansy's part. He didn’t think she could’ve known about Cho walking in on him, but Pansy was known for being on top of gossip. "I'll talk to her," he promised. The last thing he needed was Pansy trying to get Chang into her bed. Actually, he mused, maybe that  _wasn't_  such a bad idea. It'd be perfect blackmail...

  


"On second thought, I doubt I'll have time. You talk to her. Just don't mention that me and her, y'know, she doesn't like anyone else knowing."

  


Pansy nodded and grinned. "You just wait. I'll make her want me so bad."

  


It wasn't a secret, at least among the Slytherins, anyway, that Pansy swung both ways. Many Slytherins did. It increased the chances of having something fun to do, or several things, and it made the orgies much less awkward for everyone.

  


Draco didn't know whether she'd actually win Cho Chang over. He had no idea whether she was into girls or not. Her whorishness was one of the worst kept secrets in all of Ravenclaw house. What he  _did_  know, however, was that she'd once had sex with half of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team... all at once. That was a pretty good indicator of what she was up for.

  


His mind immediately returned to the present when Pansy grabbed his cock through his pants. He was fully hard and pushing against the zipper. She grabbed it and held it, squeezing gently. Draco exhaled sharply.

  


His mind was in a fog. Part of him was panicking. He didn't want to go back to Pansy. God knows what diseases she had picked up while he was off shagging Hermione. But, well, here she  _was_ , ready to go. How could he pass up the opportunity, even if it _was_  Pansy? It was just like Hermione- Mudblood, yes, but also an  _opportunity_. A very convenient opportunity. Draco Malfoy was a man of variety. Who wanted to get tied down?

  


"What say we do something about your little problem, eh Draco?" Pansy cooed, falling to her knees.

  


"Little?" he scoffed, unbuttoning his trousers. He pulled his boxers down immediately and his long cock fell out, pointing straight out at Pansy.

  


She giggled and took it in her hands, stroking it. "Well," she breathed, "When you put it  _that_  way it becomes a rather  _large_  problem, doesn't it?"

  


Draco leaned back against the sink as she began to expertly work his cock with both hands. One was jerking up and down by the tip, lightning fast, while the other slowly worked its way up and down the length of his shaft. He moaned low in the back of his throat.

  


If there was one thing he could admire Pansy for, it was that she knew what she was doing. She might be a little  _too_  experienced, by any reasonable limits, but that didn't mean that Draco wouldn't take advantage of it. With Hermione, while her amateurish innocence was a definite turn on, it just didn't produce the kind of results Pansy could get when she was doing this. She radiated confidence. This was, after all, her element.

  


When Draco's cock was standing straight up, she slid her hands down to the base of his shaft and leaned in closer. Her tongue snaked out from between her parted lips and ran the underside of his shaft, to the very tip. She dragged her tongue back and forth across the sensitive spot just below the tip. His moans intensified.

  


And then, without any warning, she wrapped her lips around the tip and took the entire length of his cock in her mouth. Pushing her nose into his abdomen, she held it there, and then, just as suddenly, she eased up the length of him again until all he could feel was the cold air of the seventh floor bathroom and her hot breath on the tip. Just for an instant. And then she devoured him again, her mouth hungry for his cock.

  


Draco kept the noises to an absolute minimum. It was matter of dignity. He was in control here, and he had to enjoy this less than her. But despite his best attempts, he couldn't manage to regulate his breathing. She was too good. When they'd first been together, he'd always tried to control her by grabbing her head, pushing her into him. It slowed her down, threw her off. He'd long ago learned to just leave her to it. She was a slut and she was proud of it, and this was what she had to show for it.

  


The problem was that Pansy wasn't very controlled. She couldn't. She'd start out running things, vying with him for absolute dominance. But then she'd just want to fuck so badly that she'd completely lose it. It was happening again now. She was getting careless, traversing his entire cock with her lips, her wet tongue sliding against his shaft as she went. But she was going too fast. She was losing control.

  


Draco knew that this was her way of telling him that she wanted him to fuck her, immediately. But he found that he didn't want to. He thought about how she would feel next to Hermione. Hermione who was tight and innocent and very natural, versus Pansy, pale, soaking, and entirely stretched. Draco considered himself to be of a fairly average size- that wasn't the problem. The problem was that he could, and had, fit his entire fist inside of her. He didn't want to do that. He didn't want to have sex with her, even if she begged him.

  


He made up his mind. He let Pansy continue working her lips around his cock, except this time he allowed himself to get into it. He moaned and let his breathing fall quick and shallow. When the time was right, he pulled back, motioning for Pansy to stop. She made to stand up so that he could mount her, but he put a hand on her shoulder to keep her down. She looked up at him curiously as he began to stroke his cock.

  


His breathing intensified as he went faster and faster, and it was too late before she realized that he was about to orgasm. Line after line of his cum exploded onto her face, coating her nose, cheeks, lips, and chin. Every surface he could cover. Pansy immediately licked her lips and began to collect the rest from her face.  _Fucking typical_ , he thought.

  


"Great," Pansy whined, once she'd finished cleaning up. "Now we have to wait until you're ready again. You couldn't keep it together Draco?"

  


He was already doing up his pants. "Sorry, gotta run. I'll see you around." And without another word, he walked from the bathroom at a brisk pace, leaving a very angry and very horny Pansy Parkinson to contemplate her fate. She decided she'd have Chang by the end of the night, without Draco.

  


  


Elsewhere, Hermione was wrapped up in her own evening. She'd finished dinner with Ron and Harry, and enjoyed the time to just sit around and talk with her two best friends. They'd managed to take a walk around the grounds before it grew too dark, and Hermione relished it. She found that students often didn't appreciate just how astoundingly beautiful the grounds were until they were cooped up in the castle studying for exams, so she was sure to take advantage of the outdoors whenever possible. Sometimes she almost wished she was a Quidditch player, so she'd have that excuse to enjoy the grounds at all hours. But for the most part, flying simply terrified her. The losing of control of it.

  


The sun was just setting as they walked through the Great Hall. The ceiling was all shades of orange and red, and the intensity of it made it difficult to look at. They trudged their way up to Gryffindor tower and reluctantly decided to continue studying for their exams. Hermione wasn't really studying though, she was waiting.

  


She had been waiting all day, searching everywhere. She was looking for a sign, any sign, from Draco, of when they would be together again. Tonight was the perfect night for it, but she had heard nothing from him. And so, as Harry and Ron tried to cram various subjects before bed, she found her mind wandering once more.

  


She found it embarrassing, but for the longest time she had never imagined what it would feel like to have sex. It was simple really, to have sex; she would have to have sex with a  _person_. That penetration had to be connected to someone. She had never been able to figure out who that person would be, and it bothered her a lot. Sometimes she would imagine it was Ron, but then she would think of his red pubic hair and it wouldn't seem so appealing anymore. She had wondered if he had freckles down there, too.

  


Other times it would be Harry. She imagined Harry much less awkwardly than Ron, but then she always thought of how Ron would feel about her sleeping with Harry, and suddenly it lost its appeal as well. She was stuck. So she contemplated other things, and let her fingers do the talking.

  


Now, she didn't need to. She had that person in Draco Malfoy and when she was with him, she no longer thought of anyone else. Feeling him inside her was better than she could ever have imagined it to be. It wasn't just his size, or how he held her as he fucked her, it was how his cock was so  _alive_  inside of her. It was hot, startlingly so, and throbbing. She could feel it pulsing with his need when they had sex. It made her wet just thinking about it.

  


She smiled secretly to herself. She wondered how her friends would react if they knew how wet she was just sitting there with them. They had no clue, they would never know unless she told them. Maybe, if they saw up her skirt... She dismissed the thought. She was too careful, and it was too dark. Nonetheless, she crossed her legs, out of paranoia. She felt a trickle of come run slightly down her thigh. She needed to be with him tonight.

  


As the night progressed, she sat there, thinking about him, waiting. Eventually, Ron and Harry grew bored of studying. She didn't blame them- she hadn't been able to concentrate at all. Nonetheless, she used the excuse of studying to stay up without them worrying. She wasn’t amazed at how easily they bought it.  _I really did have a one-track mind, didn't I_? She thought. Well, now she was using that to her advantage, as she waited for him.

  


She couldn't study. She busied herself in any way she could, reading, knitting, and cleaning up the Common Room. An hour went by, and she was worrying. What if he didn't come? She didn't know  _what_ she'd do if she went to bed unsatisfied tonight. She was contemplating ways to turn her wand into a vibrator (she was sure it was possible, as wands occasionally vibrated during the casting of certain spells), when she saw something flash past the window.

  


She stared, utterly still. And then again, another flash. She couldn't make out what it was other than a pale blur before her eyes. She waited, and then when it flashed by again, she could clearly make it out.

  


It was Draco Malfoy, on a broom, outside of the Common Room window.  _No way_ , she thought. There was not a chance she was getting on that broom with him.

  


She pushed the window open. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

  


"Evening, Granger," he grinned. "Fancy going for a ride?"

  


"I very much do mind, Malfoy. You can't make me get on that thing."

  


Draco looked bemused. "And why not? I don't suppose you can fly on your own, can you? Haven't found that in one of your books?"

  


"No, in fact I haven't," she snorted. She sighed, "If you must know, it's because... I'm rather afraid of flying."

  


Much to her surprise, he didn't laugh at all. In fact, he seemed to be thinking. "You won't be on this broom, I can guarantee you that."

  


She shook her head, mortified.

  


"What? You'd rather spend your night in here?" he said, gesturing to the Common Room.

  


"No! Of course not, it's just..." she trailed off.

  


"You don't trust me?" Draco faked outrage.

  


Hermione shrugged.

  


"Well, you'll just have to take it on faith," he said, his grin growing wider.

  


Take it on faith.  _Easier said than done_ , Hermione thought. Could she really trust Malfoy? No. In her heart, she knew that this was an arrangement of convenience, and that suited her just as well as it suited him. But it also meant that she had no reason to trust him, either.

  


Still, she found herself acquiescing anyway. And why? Because she wanted this. She wanted it more than she feared flying, and she wanted it more than she doubted Draco. It was amazing how powerful her feelings could be. She thought it might be unwise to let her emotions rule her decisions like this, but it was  _much_  too late for that now.

  


Draco flew slowly in through the window and then landed noiselessly in the Common Room.  _At least he's smart enough to shut up now_ , Hermione thought. Still, his grin of victory pissed her off.

  


He handed her the broom first and gestured silently for her to get on. She felt extremely foolish, standing there mounting a broom in the Common Room. She figured she looked like a Muggle toddler with a toy broom, out for Halloween.

  


All thoughts of that notion evaporated when Draco came up behind her and mounted the broom as well, taking the handle from her hands. They rose into the air and through the large window that provided most of the light for the Tower. She was glad they didn't have to try and cram through one of the smaller windows. She could only imagine what it must be like for the Hufflepuffs trying to sneak out. She smiled as she got a mental picture of a Hufflepuff tripping over some pans in the kitchen and waking up all of the house elves.

  


As soon as they made it over the window ledge, and were off into the night air, her smile evaporated. It took all of her restraint to keep from yelling as they flew off, higher and higher, leaving the tower behind.

  


She remembered belatedly that the window was still open and yelled to Draco for them to go back and close it.

  


"It'll be fine," he assured her. "No one's going to see it, and if they do they sure as bloody hell won't expect that innocent Miss Granger snuck out the window on a broom to have sex with a Malfoy, yeah?"

  


She shakily agreed as they continued their tour. At least he'd leveled out so they weren't climbing higher anymore. As she grew more accustomed to flying (all she really had to do was hold on- and she was quite good at that, she was gripping the handle so hard all of her knuckles were white) she could take in the details.

  


The first thing she noticed was that this wasn't Draco's broom. The wood, though polished, was old, and it seemed somewhat long: both she and Draco fit on the broom and there was room to spare.

  


The next thing she noticed was that she felt good.  _Really good_. It took her a moment to pinpoint it, and then she realized why: the broom was vibrating between her legs. Vibrating quite hard. Hermione cursed herself for wearing a skirt, on a broom of all things, but she at least had her panties between the handle and the wetness that was most definitely beginning to develop. She was sure this was intentional, but she decided to feign ignorance.

  


"Why is the broom doing that?" she asked Draco. They were travelling slow enough that wind noise wasn't an issue.

  


"Oh, you've finally noticed it, eh? Terribly unfortunate. This broom's ancient. Nicked it from the school shed. The charm's starting to wear off, so that's why it's shaking. I can't exactly sneak my broom out and back in, so I figured it'd be easier to take one of the school brooms, yeah?"

  


She knew that he had intentionally planned this, knowing that the vibrations from the broom would make her horny. They were flying across the grounds, and he was engaged in foreplay at the same time. She rolled her eyes.  _Only Malfoy_.

  


Finally, they began to descend. They were heading for a stand of trees on the shore of the Black Lake. Draco touched down gracefully, even as Hermione dug her feet into the ground in panic. It was too late before she realized she wasn't wearing any shoes and lifted her feet again. She couldn't imagine the state of her socks now.

  


Draco stepped off the broom behind her, allowing her to disembark at her own pace. She was determined not to make a fool of herself, but she'd never gotten off a broom before after flying. Well, not without landing face first in the dirt, anyway. Draco had his wand out, but she didn't notice.

  


Her attempt to get off the broom ended in disaster and she inevitably pitched headlong into the ground- but the grass seemed to cushion her fall, like a cloud. It was extraordinarily odd. It felt like grass. She knew that it was normal ground beneath her, but it was so  _soft_. There were trees nearby, and the branches extended over her view a little, but not much. The leaves were utterly still.

  


She lay there on her back, dizzy and disoriented. She thought that she would take the stairs next time, if she had the choice.

  


  


  


She was snapped out of her reverie when Draco laid down next to her. He put his arm around her and pulled her against him, until she was half on top of him, looking up at the night sky.

  


She thought back to her third year, when all of the students had slept in the Great Hall as the castle was searched for Sirius Black. It didn't even come close to what she was experiencing now. The ceiling did a wonderful job of showing off the night sky, but out here, on the grounds, completely removed from civilization, the stars were like an explosion in the inky darkness of night.

  


She turned to look at Draco. Her eyes closed as she leaned in to kiss him, and as they began the delicate game of cat and mouse their tongues played, the insides of her eyelids went white with a flash.

  


Her eyes came open in a second, pausing to look over Draco's shoulder. It was lightning. Great brilliant sheets of electricity alighting over the mountains behind the castle.

  


Draco looked where she was looking and then saw the lightning as well. "We should move. Trees aren't terribly safe to be under in a lightning storm."

  


But Hermione shook her head. "Look at the stars. It's clear above us. It must just be heat lightning." Draco checked the sky and shrugged his agreement with her assessment, leaning in to kiss her once more.

  


Their limbs entangled with their tongues, and the lightning continued to explode in the distance, briefly lighting the massive hillsides beyond the castle for any who cared to look. Draco and Hermione both had their eyes closed, too intent on the twining of their tongues.

  


Draco had broken the kiss and then was kissing around her collarbone, into the center of her chest, and then her shirt disappeared, Draco, a flurry of limbs removing it from her. He tossed his own off with it. The night air was humid, but not overbearing. Hermione did not at all mind being rid of her shirt.

  


She had on a white lace bra, patterned intricately, but none too revealing. Draco left it on, kissing her breasts around the bra, his hands kneading into the bare skin of her back. Finally, when she was about to reach back herself, he unclasped it, untangled it from her arms, and threw it into the growing pile of clothes beneath the tree.

  


Hermione was playing a game with herself. She would try and focus on aspects of the tree, try not to notice what Draco was doing to her, to test his power over her. Right now, she was watching the gentle sway of the tallest limbs. She noticed that the taller branches were swaying slightly, implying that, high up, there might be a breeze. There was nothing down here on the ground. The air was still, electrified. She watched the thousands of leaves, watched the limbs gently sway back and forth-

  


And then Draco took her breasts in his hands, and she forgot all about the tree that stood behind them. He was massaging them gently, pushing them together slightly, while his tongue returned to her mouth. She arched her back up and forced her tongue into his mouth, begging him to go on.

  


He continued to do as he had before, except his massaging became more forceful. Eventually his thumbs reached out, to push into her nipples, making them hard while he played with her breasts. Finally he abandoned the massaging altogether, focusing on running his thumbs across her nipples while he fought for dominance over her with his tongue. Before either party could gain a victory, he broke off the kiss, now dragging his tongue down between her breasts.

  


Finally, he returned to her nipples, though this time it was with his tongue. He wrapped his lips around the left, swirling his tongue quickly before switching to the right, and repeating. Back and forth he went, just long enough to cause a shock of pleasure to hit her, but not long enough for her to fully enjoy it. While this was happening Hermione became acutely aware of how wet she was.

  


It seemed Draco was thinking the same thing, because he skipped right over her abdomen, until his face was level with her belly button. He looked up at her and then yanked her skirt off, his eyes never leaving hers while he did so. She was wearing white lacy panties to match her bra. When he finally surveyed the damage, he let out a low whistle.

  


"Merlin be damned," he said. "You're lucky these are white." She felt the panties being slowly dragged off, and then she saw what he was talking about. They were transparent with wetness. 

  


"Give me those!" she said, and her hand shot out to snatch them from him. He held them out of reach, a satisfied smirk on his face, before he tossed them into the pile.

  


Ignoring his satisfaction, she spread her legs apart. He leaned in again, moving up until his face was level with hers. Their foreheads were just touching, she below him, when he slid two fingers into her. They emerged covered in come, and he sucked them clean. He buried them again, and Hermione let out a low, passionate moan. He stifled it with a kiss, his tongue wrapping around hers. She moaned into his mouth and he loved the feeling of it.

  


She felt like there was heat lightning flashing inside her head. She was hot with need for him, but she didn't want to stop kissing him. She loved the feeling of his tongue inside of her mouth. It was hot and wet and incredibly soft. She loved how his lips crushed against hers with the force of his kiss. Everything about Draco Malfoy was intense. Like a panther waiting to spring.

  


Finally, reluctantly, he broke off the kiss, and grabbed her ass, pushing her toward him as he slid down. He attacked her with relish, loosing his tongue inside the folds of her pussy. He didn't start slow. He didn't tease her clit. He began running rapid lengths up and down her entrance, using his tongue to clean away all of the come that had built up there. He cleared her pussy for a moment, and then dove back in, this time his lips wrapping around her clit. His tongue was pounding it, the pressure was enormous. Hermione felt her back arching involuntarily with the force of what she was experiencing. Her moans filled the air, but there were none except Draco Malfoy there to hear them.

  


When he stopped, she knew what was coming next, but it surprised her. She looked into his eyes and knew it was time, but why? He had just eaten her pussy better than she even knew was possible, and he asked nothing in return? She hadn't even touched his cock yet, let alone given him her usual blowjob. Perhaps it was the intensity of it all, she thought. There was no time to stop. She was ready and so was he. She stared up at the stars as he whipped his remaining clothing off.

  


He plunged his cock into her and she howled in pleasure, his own moan meeting hers halfway. He lay on top of her, thrusting down with all of his might, his thighs meeting hers, pounding them into the grass. He held her head against his chest, wrapped both of his arms around her neck, pulling her against him as he fucked her. Hermione was barely conscious from the pleasure. Draco's breathing was growing more and more ragged; it was all she could do to keep breathing in the first place.

  


It was everything she remembered and more. So much more. As she sucked in the night air, it was as though whole new doors were being opened. This was an experience unlike any other she had known. The stars melded together in her vision, the night sky becoming blurred with the haze of pleasure that had firmly enveloped her. He lay her head back on the grass, pushing his into her neck. She could feel his breath on her collarbone, feel his soft blond hair against her skin. If she had any control of her limbs, she would've pushed his head into her breast. She wanted to feel his hair. But as it stood, she didn't. The orgasm that was building inside had stripped her of all control. The only thing in the entire universe that she was aware of was Draco Malfoy above her, thrusting his long, hard cock into her at a breakneck pace.

  


Her pussy, tight as ever, was on fire. It was everything she wanted. She could feel the life inside of her; feel the pulse of Draco's cock,  _his_  cock, as it flooded in and out of her. With each thrust it seemed he pushed deeper inside her, every time he withdrew it seemed like her inner walls grabbed onto him, as if trying to force him to remain within. Her whole body ached to have him inside of her.

  


"Draco," she managed to whisper. He looked up at her.

  


"I need you to... come. Now."

  


He managed a small smile that quickly became contorted with passion.

  


"Way... ahead of you."

  


And he slammed his cock inside of her, as deep as he could manage, so hard she was sure it would bruise, and he came. He came with a force she could scarcely imagine. He crushed her body against his as his come exploded into her walls. She could feel it inside of her, all of the hot, wet. There was so much. It pushed her over the edge.

  


He hadn't finished coming when she began her own orgasm. She began with tiny panic moans. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," she repeated over and over again, in a hoarse whisper that gradually grew louder until she was yelling, yelling his name. "DRACO, YES. YES, YES, FUCKING YES, DRACO."

  


Her back arched once more, pushing her entire body up as she spasmed beneath him. Her words soon lost all form, degenerating into a low scream that seemed to fill her entire mind. Her pussy clutched his cock in a vice and held him there as wave after wave of pleasure collided with her, rolling her eyes up into her head, forcing her to hang on to Draco or be carried away forever. And so she clung to him, until the waves gradually receded, until the buzzing in her head stopped, and until her voice trailed off into breathing again.

  


She lay back on the grass, and then he to, beside her. She realized that he'd been holding perfectly still, suspended above her for her entire orgasm. And then she realized that it might have only been a minute long. She reeled at this. It felt as though time itself had stopped for her. He was still inside of her, though he finally pulled out and pushed his cock against her abdomen, sticky cum coating the area.

  


Once her breathing had returned to normal, she looked down. "Oh, see what you've done? Gone and made a mess already, have you?"

  


He grinned at her. "Well, I suppose you can count your blessing that most of the mess is inside of you, eh?"

  


She nodded her agreement, before reaching down to take his cock in her hands. He groaned, pushing against her.

  


She put on an air of mock astonishment, "Really Draco? Already? My, you  _are_  hard to satisfy."

She pulled her fingers from his cock and dragged them across her abdomen, cleaning up the cum that had spilled there.

  


"You know I love how you taste," she whispered, licking her fingers clean.

  


"I can say the same about you," he growled.

  


And they fell silent. He pulled her against him and they laid there, in the darkness, for a long time, saying nothing, doing nothing, listening to heartbeats, the sounds of the lake, the tree swaying ever so slightly above them, staring off into the pool of stars that pitted away at the black canvas of the sky.

  


That night, the universe had stopped for them. Everything else ceased to exist. There wasn’t a war on, a war in which they were aligned to opposite sides. And blood meant nothing more than the life that flowed through everyone’s veins.

  


There was no Hermione Granger, and there was no Draco Malfoy.

  


There was only one.

  


*~*

 


	6. Chapter 6

  
Author's notes:  


A/N: This is it, the very final chapter of An Honest Mistake! I'd love to hear your reviews on the story as a whole, now that it's completed!

  


* * *

 Chapter 6 - Encore Une Fois

 

The days left at Hogwarts were growing thinner and thinner, until finally, it was their last night. They would be taking the train back to King's Cross the next day. The atmosphere around Hogwarts was mixed, as it always was, with students torn between their final preparations for the journey home, and the fantastic June weather to be had on the castle grounds.

  
  


Pansy Parkinson, like the rest of her dungeon-dwelling friends, was not on the grounds. Instead, she found herself tailing Draco. She had a suspicion as to where he might be going, but she couldn't be sure. So she followed him, making sure he would never see her. She couldn't imagine what it must look like to an observer, but she didn't have any time to think about that. Draco was taking a non-stop stream of shortcuts. She needed to pay attention so she didn't lose him.

  
  


But of course, eventually her thoughts drifted back to what she was trying to do, which was seduce Draco, and she lost him. She had had it with his games. She was sick of him holding out on her. She wanted him to fuck her brains out already, and she'd be damned if she didn't get what she wanted. She could only hope she knew where he was going.

  
  


She hurried onward, up to the seventh floor corridor. She stalked toward the bathroom that no one she knew used, except for him. It was too far out of the way. She had no idea why he'd go all the way up here just to use the bathroom, but she didn't care. It meant that she could fuck him in there and no one would ever walk in.

  
  


Pansy inched the door open and peered through. He was sitting against the wall, below the single window, which was streaming in the mid-afternoon sunlight. He was still dressed, mostly, but she was shocked to see that he had his cock in his hand. His eyes were closed as he jerked it up and down, slowly. There was precome covering his hand. Pansy figured he had probably been at it for a while. Not surprisingly, she realized that she was extremely horny. Her hand had wandered down into her own jeans, and she stifled a moan as she slipped a finger inside of her. And then another. She wanted yet another still, but she'd have to take her jeans off to manage that, so she settled for two, pumping them in and out of herself as she stood there, watching. Her fingers were soon soaked with come, and she couldn't help it, she let out a moan. Draco's eyes flew open and darted to the door.

  
  


And then she did something only Pansy Parkinson would do. "I hope you're thinking of me," she smirked, as she stepped through the doorway. She began to undress. Quickly. Draco looked up in surprise and his eyes widened as he saw what was happening.

  
  


Pansy began an elaborate strip tease. She tugged at her shirt, pulling it up to show her flat, milky stomach. She began to slowly drag it up until at last it had made it up over her exposed, bra-free breasts , and then pulled it right over her head.

  
  


She was smiling a wicked smile. She kicked off the quiet, sensible shoes she had chosen for stealth over fashion and began unbuttoning her pants. He could already see the curves of her hip bones, her jeans were so low. She had specifically chosen these because they had four buttons. She began undoing them slowly, one by one, while she swung her hips back and forth to an invisible beat. Draco still sat there, his face betraying nothing.

  
  


Finally, her jeans were unzipped. She began to slide them down, slowly, turning around so that he could see her ass while she bent over to push them down. She was wearing a white g-string, so Draco could see every detail of her ass as she bent over. She turned around again, and then he could truly see how wet she was. The fabric of the g-string was nearly transparent.

  
  


Smirking, she hooked her thumbs in the string at her waist and pulled it down, giving him a tease of her smooth, hairless pussy.

  
  


"Like what you see?" she cooed.

  
  


"No. Sorry, Pansy. I'm done here." Putting his cock away, he zipped up his pants, stood up and left. He had disappeared into the Room of Requirement before she had even moved. 

  
  


He was done with Pansy.

  
  


For a long time, Pansy stood there, naked save for her g-string. She couldn't believe that her best effort had failed. He'd  _stopped_  masturbating once she'd come in. She didn't understand it. But she understood one thing- she was done with men.

  
  


She never would've admitted it to anyone, but since she had stopped having sex with Draco several weeks ago, she hadn't slept with any other guys. Only girls, Cho Chang being the most recent. She wanted to be with someone who treated her right, and Draco was the only guy she saw herself being with anymore. But if he wasn't an option, if he wouldn't treat her right, she'd go to someone who would. She'd find a girl. They  _always_  knew exactly what she wanted. More satisfied with herself than she'd been in a long while, she departed the bathroom alone, with a smile.

  
  


Hermione, personally, had seen more of the castle grounds than any of her friends thanks to her last adventure with Draco, so she was inside, packing away all of her things. Ron and Harry, however, were a much different sort of being, and wanted nothing more than to stretch their legs outside. It suited Hermione fine. They'd be the ones frantically checking to make sure everything was packed tomorrow.

  
  


She was just packing away her undergarments and lamenting the number of ruined panties from the last month--she would have to buy some new ones --when she noticed something curious. Inside one of her bras was a tiny slip of parchment. Instantly she dived for it and unfolded it. With a burning excitement not entirely void of her nether regions, she read:

  
  


_Seventh floor corridor. 3 PM._

  
  


She sighed and checked her watch. It was only just after one o'clock. She  _knew_  that Draco would take her back for one last time. Hermione was desperate for it. They hadn't seen each other at all during the exam period, and she found herself needing to cast 'Muffliato' around her four poster every night to keep the other girls from hearing her. She didn't want to think of what the others would make of it if they heard her growling Draco's name while she fingered herself.

  
  


But of course it was never the same. She could shout herself hoarse while masturbating and remembering all of the things they had done together, but the orgasm would never come  _close_  to anything he could deliver.

  
  


She gave a sudden thought to the summer. Her mind reeled.  _What would she do?_  Two entire months without sex sounded painful to Hermione now. She would've found it ironic, since she had managed to go the first seventeen years of her life without  _any_ sex, (perhaps, besides Viktor Krum lazily trying to cop a feel- which she didn't suppose counted these days), but she was too devastated. She would be staying at The Burrow. A house full of boys. Really, how hard could it be?

  
  


But they were all her  _friends_. She loved the Weasley family like her own. That made things infinitely more complicated. Perhaps she should revisit the idea of Ron...

  
  


Ugh. She didn't need  _that_  to turn her off while she thought about Draco. But she couldn't help it. Ron... would be interesting. He wouldn't be a Draco, at least not yet, anyway, but by all indications he could certainly compete with Mr. Malfoy size-wise. Which might be a problem. Hermione prided herself on how tight she was, even after all of her time with Draco. Not a slut, she thought happily. But even if she  _could_  somehow get Ron, she would have to find some way to convince him she was a virgin; there was  _no way_  she would ever tell a soul about her and Draco. She figured she could try to play it off like it was a one-night stand; a drunken mistake with a random student. Ron might be many things, but naive wasn't one of them.

  
  


She shook her head. But  _why_  think about Ron? She had Draco for now. She'd worry about the rest when the time came.

  
  


So she passed the time by packing up her things. Before she was completely finished with her underwear, however, she changed into the only green pair of panties she had. She had never worn them in front of Draco before. She preferred black since it did a much better job of covering how wet she got. But she decided that, since this was the last time, at least for now, it would be alright.

  
  


The other girls began to filter in as the afternoon wore on, and the conversation made the time pass quicker. Hermione could chat along, one half of her discussing her plans for the summer, the other half imagining the sex she would be having with Draco. If she _did_  have to go without him for two months, she thought, she had better make their final time together their best.

  
  


Almost before she knew it, it was time for her to leave. No one asked where she was going. Most of them probably figured she was going to find Harry and Ron, and if they asked, that's what she would've told them. But of course instead of heading out to the grounds, she made her way to the seventh floor corridor to find Draco.

  
  


She hadn't given much thought as to  _where_  they'd be doing it. Obviously this corridor was just a meeting place- the corridors were much too heavily travelled for it to be safe. She hoped that wasn't what he had in mind; it  _was_  the middle of the afternoon and all. When she considered passageways, though, she did find that she liked the idea of doing it in one of the secret shortcuts, behind a tapestry somewhere. That bubble burst at the thought of  _Filch_  or Harry taking the wrong one. No, better bring her to some place absolutely, permanently deserted, or there would be trouble from her.

  
  


She arrived at the seventh floor corridor and found it empty. She paced around a bit, pretending she was examining some of the paintings, waiting for him to appear. At exactly 3 PM... Draco stepped out of a door that had materialized in the wall.

  
  


He was in the Room of Requirement.

  
  


"The Come and Go Room," she said, smiling, "a very curious choice, Draco." 

  
  


"Oh, you know about it too?" he asked.

  
  


"When you have Harry Potter as a best friend, there aren't too many things you  _don't_  know about this castle," she grinned.

  
  


Draco rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say."

  
  


"So, are you going to invite me in?" she asked smugly.

  
  


"At once, milady," he made a mock bow and held out his hand for hers. She laughed and he stood up, smiling. "Of course not, just get your arse in there before I pick you up and toss you in."

  
  


"You don't need to tell me twice." She stepped in through the door and found herself in the Room of Requirement. But it wasn't like she'd ever seen it. The Room was  _massive_  and filled with things. She noticed in particular that a large wooden cabinet stood out, having had all of the other junk around it cleared away.  _Curious_ , she thought, but paid it no mind. She was here to fuck senseless, and that was  _exactly_  what she planned to do.

  
  


"What is all this stuff?" she asked.

  
  


"As far as I can tell, it's all stuff that other people have tried to hide over the years. Anything from contraband to extra furniture," he said, throwing himself down on a large black sofa with green trim. It looked very much like it had once could have resided in the Slytherin common room. He was lying on his side, his head propped up with his hand. She decided to take a seat in a matching chair across from it.

  
  


"Hmmm... the chair. I  _like_  the way you think," he said, and got off of the couch immediately.

  
  


"Well, get up," he said. She got to her feet in a hurry, wondering what this was about, when he swept in and kissed her,  _hard_. Harder than he'd ever kissed her before. For half a second her brain went crazy, convinced he was trying to suffocate her, but then she relaxed into the kiss and began to push back, first with her lips, and then with her tongue.

  
  


She felt his arms begin to twine around her, his hands smoothing her back, lifting up her shirt. They were icy cold, perhaps because she was so warm, and they instantly sent goosebumps up all over her body. She reveled in the feeling of his hands against her naked flesh.

  
  


The kiss deepened. It wasn't enough. Before she knew it, she was breaking the kiss to pull his shirt from him, to feel his hardened chest against her finger tips, to dig into it with her nails. Her shirt vanished also, leaving only her bra between Draco and her large, round breasts.

  
  


Just as she began to rake her nails across his chest, he began to massage her breasts. As her fingertips traversed under his arms and around to his back, she felt his kneading get more insistent, and finally, he reached around and unclasped her bra.

  
  


If her mouth wasn't completely entwined with Draco's, she would've let out a small gasp. Draco's cold hands against the softest of skin had made her shiver involuntarily, and her nipples had become instantly hard. He seemed to like this, rubbing the nipple back and forth with his thumb while he kissed her, using his fingers to gently squeeze her breasts.

  
  


And then he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against him, the kiss growing more intense, and his tongue fighting ever harder against hers for dominance. She loved the feeling of her breasts being pushed into his chest. It was like pushing them against a solid wall of flesh.

  
  


The kiss finally ended and Draco began to descend down to her breasts, teasing them with his tongue and sucking on them with intensity. They proceeded like this for a while, neither caring that the other was still half-dressed. Finally she tried to whisper, though it was more like a strangled cry, "My turn."

  
  


He spun them around so that his back was now to the chair. Hermione quickly unbuttoned his trousers and pushed them down so that he could step out of them. They began to kiss again, and she grabbed his cock, which was now thoroughly hard through his boxers, and began to stroke it slowly. She was hellbent on making this as good as possible. It certainly seemed to her that Draco had the same intention.

  
  


She could feel the precome soaking his boxers as she stroked him through the fabric. Soon her fingers were sticky with it. She broke the kiss to bring her fingers up to her lips, smearing the precome on before licking it off. Draco only growled in response, his passionate lust evident in the way the tip of his cock was pressed against her abdomen. She figured it was time for his boxers to make a disappearance, so she pulled them down, stretching them over his cock so as to not interfere. Once they were clear, she threw them to the ground. "Sit," she breathed, pushing him into the chair. He sat.

  
  


Hermione got on her knees, and resumed stroking his cock. She could see the clear precome coating the tip of his cock, just above her hand, and she longed to suck it off, to take him in her mouth.  _Wait,_ she told herself.  _The longer you wait, the better it'll be. But don't wait too long_ , another voice cautioned,  _or you'll never last_.

  
  


She tried to strike a balance. She let the precome pool around the tip, stroking faster and faster, until it was dangerously close to dripping down his shaft. He was grunting low in this throat by then, and when she wrapped her lips around the tip, cleaning away all of the precome with her tongue, he let a loud groan. "Oh, fuck," he grunted. 

  
  


She smiled inwardly. She was getting better at this.

  
  


She began by sucking the tip, bobbing up and down on it with just her lips. And then she introduced her tongue again, swirling it around the head. She began to take more and more of his shaft in her mouth, until she had fit all that she could. She held it there, swirling her tongue around the shaft, before returning to the head again. She repeated this a number of times, especially focusing on the head with her tongue, dragging it back and forth. She knew how it drove him wild, and by the moaning he was doing, she was sure it was having the desired effect.

  
  


Finally, he stopped her, having gotten close enough. "Trade," he growled. And so she got up from her knees, and he got out of the chair. Belatedly, she realized that she was still dressed from the waist down.  _How had that happened?_  She had no time to wonder as Draco speedily undid her jeans and peeled them off.

  
  


"Well, well," he smirked. She looked down and realized with embarrassment that she had left her panties on  _far_  too long. The wet spot was sizable and unmistakable.

  
  


"Merlin, Granger, you're leaking like a faucet."

  
  


She blushed slightly before regaining her composure. "So what are you going to do about it?" she said smugly.

  
  


Draco said nothing, but instead he spun her and pushed her into the chair. She spread her legs over the arms and leaned her head back, making sure that her dripping pussy was front and center. He immediately found her clit through her panties and began to stroke it. She gasped. She hadn't forgotten, by any means, how good it felt, but at the same time, the explosion of pleasure completely defied all of her memories. It was infinitely better than she was capable of remembering.

  
  


She felt her pussy growing even wetter and knew that she had to get her panties off. She leaned back further and straightened her legs. Draco took it as his cue to remove them, pulling them down over her legs and tossing them to the side. She spread her legs once more, and now her glistening pussy was on display. Draco could see the pearly come lining the folds and longed to collect all of it with his tongue. Instead however, he slid his middle finger inside of her, burying it to the second knuckle. He was pleased when she shuddered and let out a long moan.

  
  


He slowly withdrew the finger and grinned when he noticed it was covered in her come. He pushed the finger back inside, and then pulled it out again, faster this time. In this way, he began to build a steady rhythm until Hermione was leaning back as far as she could, her legs spread wide before him. He squeezed another finger inside of her, and used his free hand to push against her clit with his thumb.

  
  


Draco stared hungrily at her pussy, which was now dripping with come. When at last he could wait no longer, he took his fingers out and buried his face in her pussy. He attacked her clit with an intensity that would have scared her had she not already been only semi-conscious with pleasure. His tongue collected every last drop from her lips and folds, and then he pushed inside her with it and began dragging it up and down furiously, forcing it in deeper and deeper until his entire tongue was inside of her pussy.

  
  


The ecstasy was nearly unbearable for Hermione. She could barely keep her eyes open, and eventually she stopped trying, letting them slam shut as she moaned. Her breathing was irregular and scattered. It was taking a great deal of concentration on her part to remember to breathe.

  
  


Finally, she couldn't stand it any longer. "FUCK ME, DRACO!" she yelled. His face lifted from between her legs and she knew he was more than eager to comply. He growled and grabbed her legs, pulling her closer to the edge of the chair. Standing, he positioned his cock, positively dripping precome now, at the entrance to her pussy. He looked her in the eye, and jackhammered his entire length into her in one thrust. He leaned over her, grabbing the top of the chair for support as he swung his hips, slamming his cock into her.

  
  


He started by pulling out entirely, until his cock, the entire length coated in her come, was completely exposed to the air, and then he would slam it back inside her. She was wet enough that he could slide in and out of her easily, but it didn't make her pussy any less tight. He groaned and managed "Merlin, Granger..." marveling at how tight her walls were, how they clamped around his cock. Soft, and wet, and so warm. There was absolutely nothing in the world like it.

  
  


He crushed against her. His thighs pressed against her. Skin on skin. They became one fluid being on that chair, moving in a perfect rhythm, completely in sync with each other.

  
  


And then Hermione did something she'd never done before.

  
  


She motioned for him to stop. "Pull out," she whispered. He did so, a look of curiosity on his face.

  
  


"It's time to put you to the test, Draco."

  
  


She got on her knees once more, this time still on the edge of the chair. "Hold still," she told him. He was standing in front of the chair, his fully erect cock covered in her come. She took her breasts in her hands, and enveloped his cock in them. "Oh, FUCK," he cried as he felt the milky smooth skin against his cock. His knees nearly buckled. She began to slide her breasts up and down his cock, and he began to respond in kind, swinging his hips.

  
  


"Fuck my tits, Draco," she whispered. He groaned. "Don't you love how soft and round they are? Don't you love how they feel against your cock?"

  
  


He couldn't manage a reply. He groaned again, and she took that for an answer.

  
  


"Come for me," she ordered. He looked up at her, surprised. "Already?" he gasped.

  
  


"Who said we were done?" she moaned. With that, she pushed him back and dropped to her knees on the floor once more. She grabbed his cock and slammed it in her mouth, sucking it like she had never sucked before. She was going much too fast, and Draco had absolutely no choice. She felt his cock twitch between her lips, and then she felt it. His ejaculation.

  
  


Spurt after spurt of hot sticky come coated her tongue and the back of her throat. She swallowed it all. It was salty, but almost sweet at the same time. She found she liked the taste almost as much as she liked him comeing in her mouth.

  
  


Draco collapsed backward into the couch behind him, struggling to catch his breath. He was grateful the leather was cool against his skin, because he was burning up. His platinum blond hair was matted with sweat. "Now what?" he croaked.

  
  


"Well,  _I_  certainly haven't orgasmed yet," Hermione said, with a roguish grin. "So you'll have to take care of that however you see fit."

  
  


"Give me a minute," Draco grinned back. It would take a bit to recover, but the time flew past as they both rested from the extreme workout they had just undertaken.

  
  


Hermione waited patiently, giving Draco a full ten minutes to recover. Or something close to that, by her count. But she could only be so patient. She was horny as hell and burning for his cock, after all. And so eventually, she spun around the sofa so that she was facing the back on her knees. She grabbed the top of the chair and swung her ass up so that it was the most prominent feature of her display. "Fuck me, Draco," she growled. "Fuck me harder than you ever have before."

  
  


"Yes," he moaned, and pushed inside of her with a fury she had never felt before. He didn't even slow down to pull out all the way again. He started fucking her like he was about to die. Like the world was coming down around him, and this was the last good thing he would ever know. He pushed into her with such force that she was sure her ass would have bruises from his pelvis. She didn't care. She wanted him even harder. He could fuck her until her whole body was broken and she wouldn't care. She wanted it harder.

  
  


Suddenly, his rhythm slowed, and he leaned over and whispered in her ear. "I'm going to do something I've never done before. With anyone."

  
  


She grinned, "Bring it on, Malfoy," she said between breaths.

  
  


She had no idea what was in store until she felt what he was doing. The head of his cock was against her ass, very slowly pushing in. She began to let out a stream of curses that would have made Vernon Dursley blush.

  
  


Draco laughed. "Something wrong?"

  
  


"Oh, nothing," Hermione said through gritted teeth, "It only just feels like you're TEARING ME IN HALF."

  
  


"Oh, right," Draco said quickly, pulling out.

  
  


He stuck each of his fingers in her pussy, coating them in come and rubbing them on his cock for a lubricant. He positioned his cock against her ass again, and pushed. This time it gave way easily, and soon half of his cock was inside of her ass.

  
  


This time Hermione let out a moan.

  
  


"Better?" he gasped.

  
  


"Keep... fucking... going," she panted.

  
  


It was incredibly tight. Draco had thought that her pussy was tight, but it had absolutely nothing against her ass. She seemed to be pushing against his cock from all sides. The feeling was different too, coarser. It was just as warm as her pussy. Draco found he enjoyed it. Hermione also found she enjoyed it, but she liked it even more when she reached up and began to finger her pussy while Draco fucked her ass. It was like having twice the pleasure.

  
  


When he had pushed as far as he could go, and her ass had taken as much of his cock as she could, Draco began to build a rhythm. Because of the extreme tightness, he could only take tiny strokes, but that also meant he could go faster. Hermione was now  _positive_  that there would be bruising from this.

  
  


He was slamming into her ass. Thrust after thrust, his cock was stretching her out, just as her body pushed against him. She was now rubbing her clit furiously. "I'm getting close!" she shouted.

  
  


Draco pulled out of her ass and immediately impaled her pussy with his cock. She was moaning his name as quickly as she could manage between breaths. She was holding onto the chair for dear life, now, as he fucked her. He was going so fast she couldn't keep with his rhythm. She just held still, bracing herself for the orgasm of her life that she knew was approaching.

  
  


Eventually his name just became a continuous moan. She couldn't form coherent words. Draco kept going faster, and faster, and faster. His hands were digging into her hips as he thrust harder and harder, until at last he gave an almighty cry and spilled his come inside of her.

  
  


It was bliss. There was nothing she had missed more than the feeling his come spraying the inside of her pussy, coating her inner walls. It always drove her over the edge. Always.

  
  


This was no exception. Her pussy clamped down around his cock and she began to cry out as the orgasm hit her. She was screaming. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't see, she couldn't even think. The pleasure wrapped itself around her and consumed her whole body. She was shaking against his cock, her pussy clenching and unclenching as she went through the most intense orgasm of her life.

  
  


It seemed to last for ages. Waves after wave of it pounded into her, until she was completely spent of energy, and every last drop of come had been drained from Draco.

  
  


She fell sideways into the chair. Her mind was still reeling from what she had experienced. Each time she was with Draco, he took her to new heights. She had no idea that she could ever go this high. Draco, too, seemed amazed at what had occurred.

  
  


"That was... beyond..." he began as he sat on the couch.

  
  


Hermione shushed him. "Don't bother," she said with a smile. "Words can't explain it. But I know."

  
  


He nodded and fell silent. That was another thing they both loved. There was no pillow talk. There was no need to try and describe their feelings for each other. They could talk about the sex if they wanted, but there was no reason to try and justify any sort of  _relationship_. It had all started as an honest mistake, and neither of them had forgotten that.

  
  


Eventually Hermione collected her clothes and got dressed once more. Draco did the same. Finally, she said, "Well, I'll be seeing you around, Draco."

  
  


"I'd like that," he smiled back.

  
  


She departed from the Room of Requirement. She realized as she entered the hall that the sun was setting. Ron and Harry would be looking for her. She made her way downstairs, pleasantly unaware that, even as she set off toward the Great Hall, with thoughts of dinner and wonderful sex in mind, Draco had vanished through that very same wooden cabinet she had seen earlier.

  
  


In the months to come, it would haunt her. But she never told a soul. And she never regretted it.

  
  


END


End file.
